


All Good Things Shatter

by FluffyFyuu



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: A lot of holding hands, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Anxiety, Cuddling & Snuggling, Disabled Character, Drama, Drowning, Franco-Prussian War, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Injured Character, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sad Ending, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Temporary Amnesia, Thunderstorms, broken pottery as metaphor, not setting appropriate depiction of homosexuality, there can never be too much drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-12 18:00:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21480532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyFyuu/pseuds/FluffyFyuu
Summary: Jongdae picks up broken pottery at the beach and fixes it - no matter in which condition or where it's from, he cares for it when nobody else does. But one day he finds something as unfixable as himself.
Relationships: Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin
Comments: 20
Kudos: 21





	1. 25th August 1870

**Author's Note:**

> **Ticket No. 140-17**  
**Warnings:** Major Character Death, Almost Drowning, Temporary Amnesia, Panic Attacks, slight mentions of blood  
**Pairing:** Minseok/Jongdae  
**Time Period:** Franco-Prussian War 1870-1871  
**Author's Note:** This was supposed to be for Timeline EXOpress, but life happens, so ... This fic is finished (~35k) and I will upload the chapters during the next two weeks.  
Anyways, a big thank you goes to my friend/unofficial beta F. – thanks for keeping me company on this emotional ride and supporting my research, you earned your spot as Minseok’s godmother in this fic. There is a quote from a conversation between us, which sums up this story perfectly:  
“Hey F., would it be too dramatic, if-“  
“YES!”  
*writes it anyways*  
  
[I tried to be as respectful as possible with certain topics, but if there are any wrong details or untagged triggers you’d like to be added, please say so!]
> 
>   


The sand is still damp from the last rain, it doesn’t give way to his feet and thus turning each step into a risk of stumbling as usual. Still, with his eyes set on the ground before him and strengthening the hold on the basket in his right arm, Jongdae makes his way along the shoreline.

He is on the way to his hut, coming home from searching the beach for useable things. It wouldn’t take too long anymore; he passed the makeshift mark that indicates the middle of his route already some minutes ago. He didn’t find much anyway, a small cracked cup that he can fix and a can filled with nuts - but at least he found something eatable to add to his mash for dinner.

Jongdae’s thoughts about his hopefully not turned bad evening meal get interrupted when he notices a big tree trunk with a hat next to it on the shoreline. If he remembers correctly, these weren’t there when he passed by earlier. They probably got washed upon the shore by the rising tide. Sometimes things get stuck inside jugs or other objects with some kind of opening, so he decides to look around if there is something useful nearby.

What he didn’t expect was to find a man behind the trunk, lying on his right side and seemingly unconscious. Immediately, Jongdae lets out a sound of surprise and rushes to the man’s side. The first thing he notices is the uniform – it isn’t one of his own country. He knows their military uses white in many variations in their design and the man before him doesn’t have any in his uniform at all. Jongdae heard that France had declared war against The North German Confederation and other German states about a month ago, but he did not know which other countries were on France’s side. So, this man could be French or something different, but he wasn’t German.

At the realization Jongdae flinches, his mind goes blank for a moment and he takes a step back. His gaze flits to the man, still unconscious and clearly in need of help. The blue uniform jacket seems ragged and the equally blue pants are torn at the bottom.

All in all, not a threat. For now.

Jongdae isn’t one to leave an unconscious man on his own. The stranger seems just as broken as the cup in his casket and as with all broken things, Jongdae will pick it up and fix it. Make it better and useable again. Thus, the brown-haired man decides to help the stranger and decreases the distance between them.

He carefully gets down on his knees while putting his basket beside himself and looks at the man for any sign of life. The only thing he sees though is a handsome face with closed eyes and void of any expression. Jongdae lowers his head above it and puts his right hand on the broad chest, trying to feel some indication of breathing.

His mouth forms a curled smile when he feels how air leaves the slightly opened blue-tinted lips. Glad about not finding a dead body after all, Jongdae’s smile turns bigger and he brings some space between them to look at the rest of the stranger.

Apart from his handsome features, the man’s body seems to be built with strong arms and thighs. Jongdae can’t estimate what his height would be, but he couldn’t be too tall. A thought passes his mind - how will he be able to get the man to his hut?

He definitely isn’t able to carry the stranger on his own, so Jongdae would have to rush there and get his wheelbarrow to transport him. The Man, the stranger. _The enemy_. To his hut.

Was it really a good idea? Would he be save when the man wakes up? Would Jongdae even be able to pull the wheelbarrow together with the man? He hasn’t had to pull so much weight in a long time. Unconsciously, his hand slips from the chest of the man to his waist and Jongdae lets out a gasp when his hand touches blood.

“Oh please no!” Jongdae says to himself, “Please don’t die, I will be back.” He gathers his basket with the now bloodied hand, leaves the stranger’s side and rushes along the beach to get home. 

* * *

When Jongdae returns with a wheelbarrow, the man is still lying on his right side and doesn’t seem to have moved. The blue uniform looks a bit drier at some places, but the waves of the still rising tide rolling in keep the lower parts of him wet. Letting out a sigh, Jongdae pulls the wheelbarrow as close as possible to the stranger. Lifting a man was difficult enough for him, lifting a build man with a wet uniform even more.

For a moment, Jongdae’s brown eyes look upon the sea and he thinks about leaving the stranger behind after all. It’s almost high tide, which was probably what saved the man by transporting him so close to the beach part of the mainland. What if it wasn’t high tide? Would Jongdae still have seen the body, far out on the mudflats and taken in the stranger nonetheless?

Ah, the mudflats. They have a lovingly squishy yet risky nature of giving way to the feet, different to the sand on the mainland. Jongdae has always loved to feel the wet texture under his toes, but now he can’t risk stumbling and falling anymore. Especially not during low tide with no knowledge when the water will rise again. Absentmindedly, Jongdae gets lost in the view of the waves washing over the flats of mud.

The cry of a seagull causes him to snap back into reality and when he sees the man on the ground, he remembers why he came here in the first place. Jongdae steps behind the stranger, gets slowly to his knees and with some struggling, he worms his dominant arm under the right side which the man is lying on. Experimentally, he applies some pressure with his elbow and hand, testing if he has enough grip to not let the body fall out of his grasp while lifting it.

He didn’t get it at the first try, almost stumbling backwards due to the unfamiliar weight and getting dizzy from the sudden movement. When his grip strengthens instinctively around the chest, Jongdae hears a pained groan from the stranger - which gives him a little scare, but also the motivational push to finally heave the build man high enough to get him onto the wheelbarrow.

The following thud doesn’t sound too good and the position of the stranger doesn’t look comfortable either, so he tries to move him into a better one. After Jongdae is satisfied with the positioning, he turns back to where he came from and looks if there is anything to take with him that was hidden by the man’s body. Surprisingly, there is a small fishing knife that he picks up and puts into his pocket.

His eyes once again find the sea, but he can hinder his mind from wandering this time and turns around to start pulling the man towards the path to his hut. Now the rain hardened sand is an advantage, the wheel doesn’t sink into it as much as it would if it was dry.

But that didn’t mean that Jongdae doesn’t struggle with the weight of the man. He switches between watching where he puts his feet and the body on the wheelbarrow, afraid of stumbling and letting the stranger fall onto the ground. It was difficult enough to get him on there once, Jongdae wasn’t sure if he would be able to heave the man on the wheelbarrow again and get him save into his hut as well.

Continuing the familiar path to his home, Jongdae has to take a break several times to catch his breath and sometimes a beautiful flower along the way distracts him enough to stop. Since it was late August, many colourful ones are in bloom and insects buzz through the air.

When Jongdae finally reaches his hut, he leaves the stranger outside to look if the unused left side of his double bed is prepared enough to host an injured body. Putting the blanket to the side, Jongdae decides to lie the stranger on his right side like he found him, so that the bleeding wounds can be reached easier. After retrieving some towels which he puts beside the bed as well, he goes back outside.

There, Jongdae once again sneaks his right arm under the man and gets him off the wheelbarrow. While he leans back and shifts the body weight to his own front, Jongdae shuffles them into his hut and onto the bed standing against the wall.

Then, he steps back to think about what to do now. Since the pained sound earlier, the stranger stayed quiet and Jongdae notices that his lips were still blue. The man is obviously too cold and his body temperature has to be raised again, so the next step would be to strip him of his wet clothes and cover him with blankets.

Jongdae blushes at the thought, he never had to take off the clothes of another man. After a deep breath to prepare himself of what’s to come, he starts from the bottom of the uniform. He now notices that the stranger doesn’t have any shoes, but at least black socks which Jongdae removes while holding his breath. After also undoing the sash, he puts both down beside him.

Gulping, he opens the buttons of the pants next and due to them being wet they stick to the long grey underwear underneath. With crimson cheeks he opens the undergarment’s buttons as well and while avoiding to peek at the foreign crotch, he slowly pulls down each side one by one. They join the socks and sash on the floor.

It takes Jongdae a bit longer to open the buttons of the uniform jacket, since there are more and arranged in two rows. But it’s even more difficult to somehow lift the stranger’s upper body with the help of his own shoulder and slip the jacket off. Luckily the shirt underneath has fewer buttons, so he repeats the same action and soon the shirt piles on top of the other clothes. Now Jongdae is once again blushing, due to his removal method his face is now remarkably close to a foreign naked chest.

He distances himself as fast as possible and gets a towel. With still red cheeks and closely shut eyes, he dries the stranger’s body off as good as possible from legs to the chest. When he finishes with one part, he covers it with a blanket. Getting to the head, Jongdae rubs the towel extra carefully over the short black hair to avoid waking the stranger. After he finishes, the towel quickly joins the wet uniform on the floor.

While he looks at the now covered man, Jongdae tries to remember if he got any more blankets in the hut. Sadly, he can’t recall having an extra one, so he starts to search for things to treat the injured man with.

All he can find is one roll of clean bandage, but he supposes that’s better than nothing. During his search he also found a broken mug that he forgot to put onto his “still to fix” part of his shelves.

Therefore, Jongdae goes to correctly place it next to the other broken ones. With proud eyes and curled lips he looks at the shelf. There aren’t only mugs - but also bowls, jugs and cups as well. Their colours weren’t too diverse, ranging from brown to white but somewhat beautiful nonetheless.

While the young man stares at his shelf, the broken things seem to try to remind him of something. Maybe he forgot to get new clay? Or is it the casket he had with him earlier? Where did he put it anyway? When Jongdae turns around to look for the casket, the body on his bed reminds him of his original task.

The pile of clothes also catches his attention and distracts him again, so he takes it outside to hang onto the clothesline. When Jongdae hangs the jacket, he notices a different colour on the sleeves and looks at it in detail.

It is a cloth with a rectangular cut, black in colour and the bottom part was torn off. In the middle is a red embroidery - some kind of emblem or insignia, seemingly in the shape of an anchor. It’s probably to show the rank of the wearer. The man, the stranger. _The enemy_. In his hut. In his _bed_.

Anxiety finds its way to his mind again and he tries to get any knowledge from the cloth to soothe his nerves. Does the anchor show a high rank? Hopefully not. What a shame that the bottom got torn off – there probably would have been more details on it.

“Stay positive, stay positive.” chants Jongdae to calm himself down. “You survived once; you can do it once more.” He would have to trust the man to not attack him the moment he wakes up. His troubled gaze wanders to the sky, slowly turning orange and there were no clouds to be seen. When he goes back into the hut, Jongdae hopes nevertheless, that it won’t rain this night.

Finally stepping next to the stranger once again, this time he drags a chair to the bed as well and sits down. Then with some reluctance, he lifts parts of the blanket to inspect the body underneath for any wounds.

The first thing he notices are the many forming bruises, especially dark ones on the legs, the complete right side and also the chest. The right leg appears to be broken, because it has a different angle than Jongdae knows is natural. Additionally, there are some scuffs at the lower chest and deeper cuts on the upper arms, which are the cause of the blood he touched at the beach.

Reaching for the bandage, Jongdae starts to wrap it around the left arm, but halfway he realizes that it would have been wiser to clean the wound beforehand. Blushing out of embarrassment and disappointment at himself, he unwraps the bandage again and stands up to wash it as well as heat some water separately. Because unfortunately, he doesn’t have any alcohol on hand. Jongdae didn’t have the urge to drink before and the village people won’t sell it to him anyways.

After the water boils and the bandage is washed, Jongdae gets back to clean the stranger’s cuts with a wet cloth. He starts wrapping the bandage around the left arm again and Jongdae’s eyes wander to the handsome face. The small lips are still blue, but they seem to be a bit rosier than before. Happy to see a sign of improvement his own kittenish ones form a smile.

Briefly he shifts his gaze to the bandage again to correct the placement a bit and when he looks back up, the eyes of the man are slightly opened. Jongdae’s own pair widens, he stops bandaging and realizes he should say something.

“He-hello, sir.” He tries to catch the look in the man’s eyes, but they seem to be locked on the shelf at the opposite of the room. “Sir, eh, I found you at the beach. I hope I’m not hurting you right now. Your wounds are bleeding, sir. I need to bandage them.” Jongdae still tries to somehow get a reaction from the stranger, but the eyelids slowly close again.

“At least he doesn’t seem to be in much pain.” mumbles Jongdae, proceeds to wrap the bandage around the arm in silence and soon the task is finished. But since there are cuts on the other arm as well and the chest seems to need a supporting binding too, he has to get other cloths to clean and use as makeshift bandages. The broken leg also needs to be tended to, so he has to find something to straighten it with and keep it in place.

Once again, he leaves the stranger’s side and after some minutes of searching, Jongdae finds not only cloth but also a piece of wood he can use to treat the broken leg with. A blanket, he didn’t knew he owned at all, could be found as well and he uses it to additionally cover the man.

The logs in the stove are still burning, so he puts a pot above it and waits until it boils. Carefully he takes it off the hook again, places it on his table and washes the cloth with a bit soap. Jongdae tries to wring out as much water as possible, because he doesn’t have time to wait until they are dry to use them as bandages.

With the clean, slightly wet cloth Jongdae gets back to the bed and after a testing poke to the soft cheeks of the stranger to see if he is awake again, he rolls the man onto the left side. With the blanket pushed down a bit, the cloth gets wrapped around the upper arm as good as possible and after he finishes, Jongdae tries his best to somehow create a supporting bandage around the chest.

He is startled when the stranger lets out a pained hiss when his fingers press a bit too much into the skin above the right side. Alarmed, Jongdae checks if the eyes are open again, but they aren’t. While he wraps the last bits, his fingers touch the naked belly and with worry the young man discovers that it is still too cold.

With concern creasing his eyebrows, Jongdae decides to roll the man onto his back instead of his right side like before. This way he can treat the broken leg better. He pulls the blanket higher again, to tuck it a bit under the shoulder and around the neck.

Taking the wooden piece from earlier, he repositions himself and looks at the leg with more attention this time. Luckily there aren’t any open fractures, but the bottom part of the shin has an unhealthy angle to the left. Putting his right hand around the ankle, he carefully tries to simultaneously pull a bit and straighten the bottom part as good as possible. Quickly grabbing the wood, he lays it beside the leg and takes the last pieces of cloth to fixate both together. It won’t do wonders, but with a bit luck it will heal in a way that the stranger can still use his leg.

After covering the leg with the blanket, Jongdae distances himself and observes the body in his double bed. There is still some place for him to fit between the stranger and the wall on the other side. A blush finds its way onto his cheeks again, he hasn’t shared a bed with someone in a long time, let alone with an unknown man. The last person to sleep next to him was his grandmother, which he used to live with. “That was almost three years ago …” murmurs Jongdae with a sad smile and turns to put away the things he used.

After that, he goes outside to pull the wheelbarrow back to its place and ends up staring into the sky which is now slowly turning from orange to pink to blue. The insects are silent now, there are no seagulls on the horizon and the heaven is still clear of any clouds. Jongdae gets lost in the view, mind blank of any thoughts and he doesn’t return to the hut until the sky is more blue than pink.

Inside, he gets a closed pot with this morning’s leftovers and puts it on the hook, in hope to get the mash inside warm by the now almost burned down fire. Jongdae uses the time to set the table with a bowl, scoop and spoon. Soon he retrieves the pot, scoops some mash into his bowl and sits down onto the chair.

After speaking a prayer filled with gratitude to be alive and asking his God to aid the stranger be strong enough to heal, Jongdae eats a quiet meal and when he finishes, the cutlery gets cleaned and put back into its original place. A visit to the outhouse follows, where he also cleans his teeth with the help of tooth soap and a toothbrush, before he returns.

No longer able to delay sleep, Jongdae reluctantly takes his clothes off. When his brown pants fall down with a light thunk, he remembers that he picked something up earlier at the beach. He searches the pants pockets and retrieves a fish knife with a nice green coloured handle, which he lays on one of his shelves.

After that, he can coax himself into taking off his beige shirt as well to share body heat with the stranger and help him get warmer. Now only clad in underwear, he carefully slips under the blankets next to the man. The stranger. _The enemy_. In his hut. In his _bed_. “Oh, please,” he lies down on his left side, as close as he is comfortable. “don’t let me regret this.”

His gaze once again finds the face of the stranger and Jongdae realizes he didn’t take the time to really look at him until now. The first thing catching his eyes are the squishy cheeks, with his own ones turning crimson, he remembers poking them and how soft they were. Then looking from the rather small but pointed chin to the petite lips, Jongdae notices with a small smile that they are now more rosy than blue. The nose above is slightly red and the closed eyes seem notably feline, which gets enhanced by slightly curved eyebrows. Shifting his gaze higher, Jongdae realizes that the haircut is more outgrown than he thought.

Still blushing, he admits to himself how gorgeous the man is and sighs. Finally closing his eyes, Jongdae smacks his lips and shimmies a bit around until he finds a more comfortable position. With the handsome face of the stranger in his mind, he falls asleep.


	2. 26th August 1870

The first thing to welcome Minseok is pain. His whole body is freezing, resulting into dizziness and a sensation of being weighed down. There is a constant throbbing in his right leg as well as his chest. Instinctively, he takes a deep breath but starts to cough when his lungs feel like they’re on fire and he squeezes his eyes, while trying to calm down his breathing. His eyes are still closed, but his mind gets a bit clearer and Minseok tries to assess how his health condition is.

Apart from his overall lethargic feeling, the obvious throbbing from his leg appears to come from the shin and the pain in his chest is focused on his sides, whereas his lungs burn between them. Shifting his attention to the arms, his skin on the upper arms is itchy and especially the right one feels like dead weight.

For a second Minseok gets scared that he can’t move it anymore, but successfully wiggling his fingers soothes his worried mind - only to become aware of puffs of air on the right side of his neck and he goes stiff immediately.

While keeping still, panic returns and his brain tries to find a logical explanation. But it only comes up with a memory of a shelf with cups on it and a voice speaking to him. Confused and cautious, he opens his eyes. First up he looks at a wooden ceiling - nothing disconcerting yet, and with a quick glance to the left he can see a chair next to himself, with a table and another chair in the background. Against the wall stands a shelf with a sink and next to it is a stove plus chimney, who has seen better days - which means he must be in someone’s house.

Therefore, the most logical conclusion would be that the warm breathing against his neck comes from said someone. It would also explain why his right arm hurts – the person probably applies constant pressure onto it, resulting into cutting the blood circulation off while sleeping. Minseok really hopes they are sleeping, otherwise the strained sounding puffs of air would be somewhat alarming.

Carefully slow he turns his head to get a view of the stranger. Brown frizzy hair tickles his chin instantly and his eyes catch sight of an angular shoulder, lightly sprinkled with freckles. From the upper arm down, the person is covered by a blanket – which they are apparently sharing with Minseok.

He notices a second one thrown partially over himself and somewhat scrunched up between them, which leads into him realizing the stranger is cuddling directly into his right side. The angle of the upper arm and a pressure on his collarbone indicate that they are comfortably snuggled against his shoulder.

Minseok doesn’t get enough time to decide if the closeness with an unfamiliar person is uncomfortable, because the stranger moves their head - leading into a nose poking into the skin behind Minseok’s ear. While giving his best not to blush at the intimacy, he hears a quiet groan coming from the person and the pressure on his collarbone is lifted.

A murmured “What?” can be heard next and faster than Minseok’s eyes can follow, the body dislodges itself from him and jolts to the bottom of the bed. For a second Minseok can see a naked chest of a male, before said person bounces down the mattress with a loud grunt, pulling the blankets with him - subsequently turning into a heap on the floor.

The absence of a cover reveals Minseok’s bandaged chest and his nakedness in the south, which prompts him to lift his upper body to pull a blanket back up to keep his modesty. But that causes his rips to explode in pain and Minseok lets out a loud cry. Holding his sides, applying as little pressure as possible, he squeezes his eyes and lets out small pants of air.

Absentmindedly, he registers another’s whimpers and opens his eyes to see a brown mop of hair pressed face-down into the mattress. Stubby fingers massage it on the right side in a habituated manner, while the man lets out quiet muffled sounds of misery.

Minseok frowns, the fall didn’t seem dangerous enough to justify such a pained reaction. Wary, he keeps clutching his stinging sides and stays still to not draw attention to himself – after noticing the bandages he doubts the nature of the stranger is hostile, but you never know for sure.

After some seconds, both their pain seems to be decreasing since Minseok lets go of his chest, grips the edge of a blanket to cover himself and at the same time, the man lifts his head from the mattress. Their eyes meet and the stranger’s brown ones open comically. If it were a different situation, Minseok would have laughed at the cute sight.

They stare at each other for a few seconds and Minseok can see how the thoughts are swirling in the man’s head. He keeps quiet and tries to school his face into an open expression to not frighten him further.

The stranger gulps audibly and after clearing his voice, the brown-haired starts to talk.

“Hello, sir –“ Minseok recognizes the language as German and is quickly reminded of his days spent at his grandfather’s – who once lived in Prussia. But unfortunately, he can’t understand anything the stranger is saying, except some words like _beach_, _injury_ and _pain_.

At least the voice is nice to listen to, muses Minseok. He isn’t talking fast, has a soothing timbre and a pleasant pitch – even though it was altered by nervousness right now, fluctuating between squealed and stuttered sounds.

The stranger stops talking when he registers Minseok’s inattentive gaze and seems to realize something. After once again clearing his voice and making sure to have Minseok’s attention, the man points with his right hand to himself and says:

“I am Jongdae.”

Moving the hand to point to Minseok, he makes a wavy motion with it and his straight eyebrows advance towards his hair in an expecting way. Minseok feels a bit like a fool for not understanding it before and after clearing his own voice, gives him an answer.

“I am Minseok.”

Even though his voice sounds like rasping sandpaper, the man’s curled lips stretch into a big grin and Minseok responds with a little smile of his own. He can see how the man – no, Jongdae, thinks about what to say next and waits cautiously for him to voice his thoughts.

“Are you in much pain?” brown concerned eyes look at him.

Scoffing, Minseok thinks _of course _but he needs some seconds to find the words to express himself. He doesn’t come up with anything that sounds correct, so he answers with a simple “Yes, No.” and a gesture which he hopes shows a mixture of _yes, it hurts very much_ and _it could be worse_.

Jongdae’s face turns into an understanding grimace and he seems to need some time again to talk. It’s enough for Minseok to slowly consolidate his impression that the man in front of him is not a thread.

“Are you hungry, sir?” asks Jongdae finally and says something more which Minseok can’t understand completely. But from the concerned tone of his voice and words like _pain_, _food_ and _more pain_ he gets the idea of what the man tries to express. The worry about worsening his pain warms Minseok’s heart a bit and he tries to assess how his stomach would handle food. The only parts hurting right now are his rips and the leg, even though his body still feels heavy he supposes some food would do him good.

“Yes, I am hungry.”

Jongdae nods and moves to stand up – only to yelp in embarrassment when his naked chest comes into view. Blushing, he lowers himself again and appears to search for something. With a pleased hum he dresses himself with a loose beige shirt and after closing its buttons with his right hand, he slowly stands up again - this time with a pair of brown pants grasped in the same hand.

After he puts the pile of blankets onto the right side of the bed and while Jongdae walks through the room, Minseok notices that something seems off about him. He frowns when the brown-haired stops in front of the door, to tug his pants under the right elbow and use the door handle with the same hand to step outside. Minseok decides to pay attention to his arms in the future.

Since his momentary caretaker left him, he lays back down and contemplates about what to do. Trying to assess his situation he lists the things he knows.

His name is Minseok. He is injured and in pain. He is in a house with a man called Jongdae. Jongdae seems friendly, because he treated his injuries and keeps doing things for him, even going as far as worrying about possibly increasing Minseok’s pain. But something is off about him and Minseok stays wary. He doesn’t know much about Jongdae, but he seems to be of a similar age as himself.

Minseok knows he’s 23 years old and was born near Dieppe, in France. His family consists of his father, a fisherman, and his two little sisters Henriette and Marthe. His mother died of a fever four years ago. Well, he doesn’t like remembering that - but at least he knows who he is and that he has a family.

However, when he tries to think of the last weeks - nothing. His memory is nothing but a blank void when he tries to conjure pictures. He gets snippets of a shelf, a voice and the smell of fire – but nothing concrete to deduce something from. Where exactly is he? How did he get here and why? What day is today? How long has he been unconscious? Hopefully not too long to have brain damage.

He definitely has to ask Jongdae some questions, but that won’t be easy with the language barrier between them. German isn’t a completely foreign language to him – Minseok’s grandfather had taught him some things. Hopefully he will remember them, because when he tries to come up with some words the only ones his brain can find sound violent.

* * *

When Jongdae comes back, Minseok turns his head – seeing him, now wearing pants, with a bucket in his hand. The man places it on the table and walks to the stove, arranges some logs and starts a fire with the help of a tinderbox – everything solely with his right hand.

This leads Minseok to pay attention to the left one, which seems to be swinging disproportionally to the motions of the other arm. Jongdae doesn’t appear to even think about using it and when Minseok looks back, in the short time that he was conscious – Jongdae never did.

Frowning with worry, he tries to look for explanatory indications and from this distance he can’t see it clearly, but there appears to be some kind of red pattern on his skin. Minseok can only make out some of it at the wrist making its way upwards, then it’s covered by the shirt.

Jongdae gets the fire started and goes to retrieve a pot from a shelf opposite the bed. Minseok’s eyes never leave his form, searching for more unusual markings and when the brown-haired slowly kneels down, he can make out more of the strange red lines at the left neckline.

Minseok isn’t too sure about where it ends, because his object of observation stands up again and walks back to the table, but not without sending him a nervous smile. Then he starts to gather some other things like closed bowls, where Minseok assumes the man stores his food in. Watching Jongdae prepare a mixture of grains with nuts, he is taken aback by how smooth the process is despite the non-use of the left arm.

Minseok realizes with a bad feeling that Jongdae must have had the condition for a while already.

The mixture seems to be ready, because together with water from the bucket it gets added into the pot and hung on to the hook of the stove. The silhouette of Jongdae standing in front of the fire creates a spark in Minseok’s mind and he suddenly gets the feeling of a déja-vu. Frowning again, he tries to remember what exactly this is reminding him of and with a startling clearness it comes back to him.

He has seen this before. Minseok’s eyes open wide in realization. He has seen a man heat a pot and cleaning cloth.

He has already woken up before, to see a silhouette he now identifies as Jongdae waiting for a pot to heat up. To then take it with a cloth-protected right hand and place it on the table. To wash cloth and try to squeeze it dry with only one hand. His memory goes black after this, but with a quiet sound of amusement, he remembers to be poked into his cheeks. 

Apparently Jongdae heard him, because the man turns around with a slightly tilted head to send him a worried look– which Minseok tries to soothe with a smile. He gets one back in return, but Jongdae didn’t turn around again. Instead he walks to the bottom of the bed and kneels slowly down again. Minseok can’t see everything the man is doing, but it seems that he opens something and when brown pants as well as a shirt and socks get thrown onto the mattress, he assumes that they were stored in a chest.

The clothes remind Minseok of his naked state and he sends a thankful smile to the man. Jongdae on the other hand starts to blush, while he makes his way to the chair next to Minseok and says something about _clothes, help _and something about _not on his own_.

Confused about the _not on his own_, Minseok frowns. But he wants to try to dress himself, so he hopes that “I try alone.” Is an acceptable answer. Jongdae looks at him with a contemplative gaze, brows furrowed – yet, he hands him the clothes.

While slowly sitting up he pulls the blanket down, which causes the man next to him to first stare at his half-naked chest and then, with still blushing cheeks, at his feet. Amused by the reaction, Minseok takes the shirt and dresses himself carefully. Luckily, he doesn’t have many problems - going slow seems to be the key. Grabbing the pants, he tests if this method also helps with leaning forwards, but unfortunately the pain in his rips intensifies and he lets out a gasp.

Out of the corner of his eyes he sees how Jongdae’s head snaps up and he hears a squeaked “I help you!”. The brown-haired man stands up and Minseok hands him the pants back with a curious expression. Grabbing the socks and going to his legs, Jongdae lifts the blanket and the feet get revealed. Minseok’s eyes go wide - his right leg is held straight by a piece of wood, which explains the throbbing pain.

“Ehm, it –“ Jongdae starts, Minseok’s still baffled gaze shoots up to him and he continues hesitantly, “it is broken, sir.” Then he adds words Minseok can’t understand at all. But Jongdae seems to realize his problem and quickly just shows him what he wants.

He carefully slips the socks on Minseok’s feet, gets his left foot into the pant leg and seems to be planning to do the same with the other, too. But he stops and sends Minseok a questioning look. Grinding his teeth together in anticipation of any possible pain, he nods.

With a “I hope I don’t hurt you.” Jongdae starts to slowly pull the pant leg over his right foot. From there on, he switches between each side - pushing the blanket higher and following with a pull of the pants. It hurts and to distract himself, Minseok observes the habitual movements with which the man operates only with one arm. The other one dangles without any body tension on to the bed and Minseok can see the pattern on its skin better now. Red delicate lines wander from the wrist to the sleeve and from its left neckline over a slender throat to Jongdae’s left ear.

Minseok’s gaze lingers on a prominent Adam’s apple and when the movement at his legs stops, he realizes with embarrassment that he probably was caught staring. With an apologizing look he shifts his gaze higher to meet Jongdae’s eyes - but he doesn’t, because the man is staring down at his hand with crimson cheeks.

Minseok understands his predicament when he looks down and sees how close he is to his private parts. The man obviously isn’t used to show much skin himself, it’s only logical that he doesn’t want to invade Minseok’s privacy.

He suspects that he can lean forward enough to reach for the pants and pull them up on his own now, so he stretches his hands out to touch Jongdae’s and indicates him to leave the rest to him. Still with a blush on his face, the man sends him a thankful smile and distances himself.

Out of the corner of his eyes he sees him walking to the stove and starts to pull the pants up as good as possible. After some wiggling and lying back down, to carefully push his hips up, he finishes dressing himself with sluggish movements and sits up against the headboard again. It’s weird to wear pants without any underwear, but Minseok is aware of his situation – stuck to this bed, it isn’t important to stay formal and wear underwear.

He catches Jongdae saying something, but he didn’t listen good enough and turns his head to ask him to repeat it. But Minseok gets startled, because the man sits on the chair next to him again. He sees two bowls with mash and spoons placed on a nightstand next to the headboard and to his surprise, both of Jongdae’s hands are folded together. The man stops his murmurs and after a short moment of silence, he takes a bowl to hand it to Minseok and looks at him with big eyes.

The picture reminds Minseok of an excited child, so with a “Thank you, Jongdae” he takes the bowl and starts to eat.

After his first spoon of mash, he notices that Jongdae isn’t eating – but staring at him with a huge grin that curls his upper lip and makes his accentuated cheeks look especially squishable.

“You called me Jongdae!” is his cheery reaction to Minseok’s gaze on him. “May I call you Minseok?”

Once more reminded of a child Minseok smiles amused, nods and continues eating. Jongdae starts to eat without further delay now too, but he keeps the corner of his mouth curled into a happy expression. Minseok can only eat some more spoons, before he is full and waits for the other to finish his meal too.

Jongdae is balancing the bowl on his knees, while he eats with his right hand and the other one is still void of any sign of tension. Somehow Minseok can’t take his eyes off the red lines, they look intriguing and strangely beautiful. His mind still tries to find a possible reason, but he can’t deduce what must have happened to cause such physical constrain and peculiar red lines. He has never seen such a thing before.

The man stops eating and lowers his spoon into the bowl. This time, Minseok has been caught staring – Jongdae is watching him with assessing eyes.

“I’m sorry, I –“ he gets interrupted by Jongdae shaking his head with a sad smile. His gaze is still assessing – no, it’s resigned.

“It’s okay.” The smile turns bitter. “All people stare.”

Minseok opens his mouth to apologize again, but Jongdae continues:

“All they do is stare. I am on my own now, but I am here … and alive. And I thank God for that every day.”

“You are alone?” _… and alive?_

“My family doesn’t want me.” Jongdae doesn’t smile anymore. “My grandmother lived here. She took me in and showed me …” his lips press together and he doesn’t talk further.

Minseok doesn’t know what _took me in_ means exactly, but he guesses somewhat along the lines of Jongdae’s grandmother letting him live with her in this house. Which leads him to his next question:

“How old are you, Jongdae? How long are you here, alone?”

“I am 20, but my birthday is next month.” Jongdae takes a deep breath. “I’ve lived here for almost four years. My grandmother died of a fever a little over a year ago.”

Minseok sends him a sympathetic smile. “I am sorry. My mother died because of a fever, too.”

“Oh, my sympathies. That must have been difficult.” Thankful, Minseok deepens his smile. At which Jongdae breaks their eye contact, but this time he doesn’t look as hurt as before. Minseok guesses the man thinks about what to say next and is glad when he directs the topic back to a safer place.

“But say Minseok, how old are you?”

“I am 23 years old.”

“And where do you come from? You’re not German.”

Minseok is glad that he can answer this question as well. “I am from France.”

“Ah,” Jongdae has an expression as if he got an idea, “maybe your ship is still near!”

“My ship?” Minseok frowns. “I don’t remember a ship.”

Jongdae’s expression shifts into a cautious one. “Well, what do you remember?”

Minseok opens his mouth to answer, but no words find their way past his lips. The list from earlier is useless right now, he already told who he is. Ah, but he recalls seeing Jongdae before.

“I remember waking up in pain and seeing someone in front of a stove, with a pot on it. I think that was you. But not more.”

The brown eyes in front of him look sad, eyebrows turned up in the middle in sympathy.

“I found you on the beach, washed up by the rising tide and wearing a uniform. That was yesterday.”

Minseok lets out a relieved breath - so he wasn’t here for long. He doesn’t know what _rising tide_ means, but _uniform_ catches his attention.

“A uniform? Can I see it? Maybe I remember then.”

Jongdae nods enthusiastically, stands up and takes both their bowls to bring them to a sink next to the stove before he leaves the house.

Minseok clasps his hands above his lap and tries to find a memory connected to a uniform, pressing his eyelids together. But once again, there is a blank void and his mind can’t produce pictures of the past weeks. What kind of uniform did he wear anyways? Hopefully it can shed light on why he is in a German house.

Deciding to push his memories further he tries to come up with something older - there are some moments of being on a fishing cutter with his father, of himself trying to get his sisters to bed and one of his mother, smelling like lilac while braiding their hair.

Feeling nostalgic, he opens his eyes slowly and with his gaze on his hands, he thinks about his family - hoping they are well. Minseok gets lost in his thoughts for a bit – recalling days long lost with his family, missing his mother.

The passing minutes start to feel far too long and he begins to wonder where Jongdae is. Shouldn’t he have returned by now? Minseok doesn’t know how big the area around the house is, but he supposes it can’t be too big based on Jongdae’s bitter revelation of being alone. To distract himself, Minseok decides to look around once more.

The house has just one room, with the double bed located at one of the corners opposite the front door. The rest of it looks a bit empty – the shelves, stove, table and chairs being the only furniture filling the rectangular room. Inspecting the shelves further, he notices a disarray of miscellaneous things – mugs, bowls, vases. Looking around the room he starts to notice them everywhere and he has to suppress the urge to tidy the place.

There are two windows – one between the door and the bed, and one next to the stove. Trying to see something through it, he can make out some bushes and the sky with a silhouette of someone. His heart beats fast and he squints his eyes, trying to see who it is. Recognizing a light shirt and brown hair, he calms down a bit but furrows his brows when the man doesn’t move after some minutes.

Jongdae just stands there, with his back to the window and his shoulders relaxed. Minseok tries to look around him, for any sign of what the man is doing but he can’t change his point of view enough to spot any difference.

Now furrowing his brows again, he adds it to a list with odd things he notices about Jongdae. Already noted are the physical condition and red pattern, both their origins still unknown. But knowing that it probably has to do with Jongdae being cast out by his family, Minseok doesn’t have the courage to outright ask.

His thoughts get interrupted when Jongdae moves to the right, out of his view. Minseok keeps his gaze fixed though, waiting for him to come back. He does some moments later with something blue thrown over his shoulder.

After entering the house, Minseok identifies it as a jacket. Yet, his gaze gets caught by brown glowing eyes when Jongdae sits down in front of him. With curled lips he hands him the jacket.

“There is more, but I didn’t want to drag everything around.”

“Thank you, Jongdae.” He takes the jacket with heavy feeling arms but before he inspects it, he wants to satisfy his curiosity. “Why were you outside for so long?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I saw you standing outside, Jongdae. Doing nothing.”

Jongdae’s eyebrows rise and his curled lips wander south.

“Oh … but then … I guess I was. I watched the sky – it is beautiful.”

_For so long? _But Minseok bites his tongue and turns his attention to the uniform jacket. Feeling the texture of the material he notices it’s still damp. Lying it down on his lap, his fingers follow the double button placket.

“There are two cloths on the sleeves, let me show you!” An angular hand turns the sleeves into the middle. Jongdae taps his finger on a black cloth and grins at Minseok.

“It has an insignia on it.” And the finger draws a circle around a red embroidery.

Minseok doesn’t know what _an insignia_ is, so he lifts the jacket to look closer. The cloth is ripped off at the bottom, in its middle he sees the embroidery. He traces the outlines of a red anchor and tries to find the same spark, the feeling of déja-vu. But there is nothing. The jacket falls onto his lap again.

“What rank does it show?”

Minseok looks at Jongdae, whose eyebrows are pulled together, his lips curled but tense.

“I don’t know. I don’t remember anything.”

“Oh…”

“This …” Minseok searches for the German word for _anchor_, showing the embroidery to Jongdae with questioning eyes. “How do you call it?”

“That’s an anchor.”

“An_shor_\- anchor?”

Jongdae nods.

“Okay, this anchor has to do with the … water army?”

“You mean the Navy.”

“The Navy. Okay, so the anchor has to do with the Navy. That means I am part of the French Navy. _Marine nationale_ … But I don’t know my rank. Or how I got to the beach.”

His lips pressed together in thought, he once again tries to find memories but comes up with nothing - his brain starts to hurt in return and he gets more dizzy.

“Maybe I can help you.” Starts Jongdae, his voice sounds uncertain. “We’re at war. The North German Confederation, you know, Prussia together with other German states are at war … with France, that is. So, we are ehm … ” _enemies_.

Minseok frowns at his frightened tone. Jongdae has been nothing but nice and helpful – Minseok doesn’t see a hostile opponent in him. Yet, scared eyes observe him, unsure about his reaction.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Jongdae.” With a smile he tries to defuse the tense air. “I am no enemy to you.”

Letting out a shaky breath, Jongdae looks at him with big brown eyes and a small smile.

“Thank you. I hope you know I’m not your enemy, too.” He looks down. “Even though our countries are. And I hope you won’t change your opinion when your memories return …” Jongdae gets quieter to the end and fidgets with his hand.

Minseok hopes he’ll regain his memories, but he also wishes that it won’t cause him to look at Jongdae in another light. But he can’t asses that - so he won’t make any promises to Jongdae, because he may not be able to keep them. Sending the man a grim smile, he keeps quiet and Minseok tries to find a way to change the topic.

Thinking about the uniform and how Jongdae said he found him at a beach, he gets an idea.

“Is there anything else? That you found?”

Jongdae’s eyebrows shoot up and he lets out a small embarrassed squeak. His body jumps up - but he stumbles and with eyes squeezed shut, his hand grasps the back of the chair. Instinctively, Minseok turns to him and stretches his arm out to help. But he stops midway due to a sudden dizziness and stinging pain in his sides, he has to grit his teeth for a few seconds to withstand it.

“Jongdae?”

Minseok gets a loud puff of air as an answer.

He leans back and breathes out in relieve when the pain lessens. But not knowing how to help he keeps his eyes on Jongdae, who loosens his grip and sends him a tense smile, eyebrows still pulled together.

“I’m fine. Just …” A deep breath. “Just got up too fast.” Another breath. “Are you ok?”

Still concerned Minseok nods and while he observes Jongdae swaying a bit on his way to a shelf, he remembers that he also thought the man overreacted after his jolt this morning and that he tends to get up or sit down slowly in general.

Balance problems find their way onto the _Jongdae list_.

The air is still tense when said man returns with a cup and a knife, both get placed onto the blanket.

“The cup wasn’t next to you, but I found it before I … well, before I found you.”

Despite the improbability of it having a connection to him, Minseok looks at the cup first. It’s white and has a delicate leaf pattern, but the most prominent thing he notices – it’s broken. The handle is missing and in its place is a big hole instead, with sharp edges and cracks leading into the surrounding pattern. It has a somewhat flawed beauty.

He directs a questioning look at Jongdae.

“Why did you take it?”

Jongdae fidgets with his hand again.

“I pick up broken things and fix them. Then I sell them at the village.”

Surprised, Minseok’s eyebrows rise and he is once again amazed how Jongdae masters his life. This would also explain the many miscellaneous things in his house. “You can show the fixed cups to me later, if you want?” he suggests.

A big grin is his answer and after he returned it, he shifts his attention to the knife.

It is a classical fisherman’s knife, nothing special. It has a green coloured handle and two collapsible blades – one smooth and one jagged. When he opens and closes the blades, he can hear a click and –

Before his eyes he sees a port, with his father’s fishing cutter swaying on the waves and said man sits in front of him – using the knife to cut some ropes. Minseok wants to say something to him, but he gets interrupted by the shouting of a group of men. They all wear a blue uniform and seem to wait for him, waving hands and calling his name. He shushes them with a hand gesture and they turn around to walk towards a big navy ship. On its deep blue paint was a name written -

“Minseok?”

A hand is pressing into his left shoulder and brown eyes watch him with brows furrowed. The knife is back on his lap.

“Min-“

“Je-oh … I am fine. I-” he looks into Jongdae’s eyes. “I remembered something.”

The brown eyes widen and Jongdae’s curled lips turn tense.

“A-and?”

“I was home. There was a group wearing the uniform and they called my name. There was a ship -” he frowns. “I couldn’t read its name.”

“Did you also wear the uniform?”

“I don’t know …” Trying to get back to the memory, he squeezes his eyes – but his head starts to hurt and he massages his temples.

Jongdae looks at him. “I think that was too much. Take a break, please.”

With a sigh, he nods and hands Jongdae the things occupying his lap.

“Try to sleep, I’ll wake you when it’s dinner time.” The man takes the knife as well as the cup and places them back onto the shelf. Minseok watches his movements again and now that he doesn’t focus on the strange arm, he takes note of something different. With a pleased grin, he follows the striking proportion of Jongdae’s broad shoulders and his tiny waist. The prominent butt below adds to the attractiveness of his body – Minseok can’t deny the man is nice to look at.

Before Jongdae leaves the house with the jacket, he sends him a worried look but Minseok still feels cheeky and sends him a wink. Jongdae’s eyes grow wide and he lets out a high-pitched sound before he hurries outside.

Lying down while ignoring the pain in his chest, Minseok stares at the ceiling still with a grin on his lips. But it slowly disappears when he thinks of his memory. It did nothing to answer why he is here. He is – _was_? A member of the French navy. But which rank? And his country is at war with The North German – what was it called? North German, North German …

Minseok’s mind gets dizzier with the minute and he closes his eyes.

* * *

“Minseok?” A soft pat on his shoulder. “Minseok? Please wake up.”

The pressure on his shoulder shifts onto his forehead, a warm palm pressed against it.

“Please, wake up.”

Slowly, his eyes open and the first thing he sees is Jongdae’s face, scrunched up in worry. At this point he thinks the eyebrows are frozen in their frowned position. Minseok takes a deep breath but coughs painfully and the hand on his forehead shifts, gripping his shoulder again to stabilize him.

“Don’t scare me like that.”

Jongdae’s curled lips are turned down at the corners, while he observes him of any signs of another incoming cough.

“P-pardon.” Murmurs Minseok, mind still fuzzy from sleep.

“Did you sleep well?”

Minseok hums and Jongdae sends him a smile.

“Dinner is almost ready, I wanted to ask if you like blackberries?”

He doesn’t know the last word, so all Minseok can do is look confused.

“What is a …”

“Oh, wait. I show you.”

Jongdae gets something from the table and shows him his open palm. There are four small, almost black fruits – Minseok recognizes them.

“Ah, we call it _mûre_.”

Jongdae looks a bit helpless and with a grin Minseok continues.

“Yes, I eat them.”

“Great. I will add them to the mash then.”

Bringing the berries back to the table, he adds them to a pot which he hangs over the stove. Minseok frowns when Jongdae doesn’t move further and just stares into the flames, seemingly lost in thought. He watches him for a few seconds, adding the absentmindedness to the _Jongdae list_.

His gaze wanders to one of the shelves, catching sight of cups and he gets an idea to maybe entertain them both.

“Say, Jongdae?” He doesn’t react. “Jongdae?”

Now the man in question flinches and turns to him, head tilted to the left and his eyes wide.

“Hey, all is okay. Did I scare you? I’m sorry.”

Jongdae’s eyes turn warm again and with a small smile he gets closer to Minseok.

“It’s okay, I apologize.”

With a hesitant tone Minseok continues with the topic he wanted to ask originally.

“Do you want to show me your things? That you fix?”

The change in Jongdae’s face is immediate – his answering smile is so broad his eyes get squished together and his cheeks seem cutely pokable.

Nodding, he turns to one of the shelves opposite the bed and takes two pieces of pottery, stacked on top of each other. When he returns to Minseok, he identifies them as a bowl and cup.

Both have a similar leaf pattern – but what makes them interesting are the cracks. Littered with beige lines, they are forming an intricate pattern on their own. Looking closer, it seems the cup was shattered and a part of its rim got replaced with the beige material. The work looks delicate and Minseok feels oddly intrigued.

“It’s pretty.”

“Thank you.” Jongdae looks down with crimson cheeks.

Minseok’s gaze shifts to him, tracing sharp cheekbones and straight eyebrows instead of beige lines, wandering from a prominent Adam’s apple to the limp arm with its own red pattern. Minseok catches himself before his gaze turns into a stare and looks up, the same moment Jongdae starts to talk.

“Do you want to see the cup I showed you earlier? It is still drying, but maybe you like it?”

Smiling, Minseok answers “Yes.” And Jongdae makes his way outside.

Minseok takes the bowl now and looks at it in detail too, expecting Jongdae to once again take longer than needed. This time it doesn’t happen though, and the young man returns a few moments later, balancing a cup carefully in his open hand.

“I didn’t get the handle right, so I just closed the opening up to the rim. Now it’s a small mug.”

Curled lips smile wide yet Jongdae doesn’t appear to want him to touch it, so Minseok keeps his hands to himself and just looks at it.

The contrast between the white background with its delicate flower pattern and the beige material is significant, because the hole where the handle used to be was quite big. Jongdae rotates it in his hands and Minseok notices the imprints of fingerprints and marks of nails. They add to its uniqueness.

“This is beautiful.”

“Thank you!”

With a big smile Jongdae stands up and brings it back outside. Minseok’s gaze shifts to the stove, the mash should be ready now and he can hear his stomach rumbling. When Jongdae returns, he repeats his routine of preparing the meal and sits down next to Minseok.

With the bowls resting on the nightstand, Minseok observes how Jongdae grips his limp hand and intertwines it with his other one on his lap. Closing his eyes, Jongdae murmurs something and startled, Minseok realizes that he is praying.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Minseok tries to understand why he doesn’t feel the urge to do the same. Didn’t he believe in god? Who was so mad to not believe in god? Did he really _forget_ being religious?

“Are you okay?”

Concerned brown eyes look at him and Minseok knows he isn’t ready to voice his problem. With a forced smile he answers: “I’m just hungry.”

Jongdae chuckle sounds suspiciously airy while he hands him a bowl. Minseok nods thankful and tries to keep his expression light, to not reveal his troubled state of mind. It doesn’t seem to work, because he knows Jongdae sends him a concerned look every few seconds, but he keeps his head down and eats his mash.

It seems that they both can’t finish their portion this evening, when Jongdae stops eating Minseok hands him his half-filled bowl back. Their faces mirror tense smiles.

After he placed their bowls into the sink, Jongdae turns to him with a cautious expression.

“Would it be okay, if I spend some time outside? To give you … eh, some space.”

“Yeah, that is a good idea.”

“Okay … then, I’ll be back in a bit?”

“Hm.”

The door closes and Minseok lets out a sigh while he lies down, his chest throbbing a bit at the movement.

With his hands on his temples he blocks out the pain and thinks about his newest discovery, trying to remember anything related to religion in his life. Going to church with his family? Nothing. The baptism of his sisters? Nothing. Praying before eating like Jongdae does? Nothing but a blank void. He knows it probably happened in his past, but there aren’t any pictures.

Frustrated, he clenches his jaw and rubs his face with his hands. Why can’t he just remember everything? Why does he have to be injured, in pain? Why does he have to be here, in this foreign country, in this foreign house, with Jongdae - a stranger?

Pressing his palms into his eyes until he sees colours erupt, he lets out a groan and his breath starts to get heavy. Wandering with his hands higher, he grips the short strands of hair and opens his eyes again to stare at the ceiling.

Sadly, there aren’t any answers up there.

After his mind runs crazy and his breathing gets hard enough to cause painful coughs, his rational side finally kicks in. Trying to calm down, he concentrates on slowing his breathing.

It doesn’t do him good to go mad about not remembering. The memories will come back with time, he needs to stay positive. He must allow himself time to remember, to heal and get stronger again. Then he will regain his memories and return to his family. But what about Jongdae?

Minseok frowns in thought but gets interrupted when he hears the door handle. His gaze flits to it and sees said man’s brown mop of hair slowly coming into view. Cautiously looking into Minseok’s direction with a tilted head, brown eyes try to assess if his presence is welcomed.

“May I come in?”

_It’s your own house, of course_. – “Yes.”

Jongdae enters completely, retrieves a bowl and after he filled it with water from a fixed vase, he walks to the bed. Patient, he waits for Minseok to sit up, then he hands it to him and gets a small metal box from his pants pocket.

“I don’t know if you use it. I thought it could help you feel better … eh, and cleaner.”

Curious, Minseok balances the bowl on his lap and takes the box. Opening it reveals a dark clump of something. Raising his eyebrow, he looks at Jongdae.

“That’s tooth soap. I’m sorry, I don’t have a second toothbrush. So, you have to use your … eh, your finger.” Jongdae motions brushing his teeth with a finger at Minseok's confused look, then he smiles shyly and continues. “But I thought it might brighten your mood.”

He doesn’t understand what _brighten_ means, but he gets that Jongdae put thought into how to cheer him up. How could he think bad about Jongdae? Being so compassionate …

Shame causes his cheeks to redden and he thanks Jongdae with a smile. Said man sends him one in return and walks back to the sink. While he hears Jongdae cleaning their bowls from earlier, he dips his finger into the water and uses the tooth soap. After rinsing his mouth, it gets a nice minty taste.

Placing the bowl and box on the nightstand, he lies back down with his chest protesting once again. Minseok isn’t tired yet and he can’t do much to get himself sleepy, so he looks at Jongdae to distract himself with a nice view.

The man finished cleaning the bowls and turns to walk to the bed, but Jongdae startles when he notices Minseok’s gaze on him. With a shy smile, he comes to a stop in front of him and holds his left arm, shifting from one leg to the other. Jongdae’s cheeks grow red and he glances from his feet to Minseok and back again.

Minseok stays silent, he is curious what he wants and he gives the young man time to formulate his words.

“Would it be okay if I sleep ne-next to you?”

_Cute_.

Also, who is he to deny Jongdae his own bed?

“It’s your house, your bed. Sleep here.” He taps the mattress beside him for emphasis.

Jongdae lets out a relieved huff, before he goes to the chest and retrieves a new beige shirt. Averting his eyes to give him privacy, Minseok stares at the ceiling until he feels the mattress dip. Turning his head to the right, he sees Jongdae crawling onto the bed and shares an embarrassed look with him. This situation has a weird kind of intimacy to it.

After Jongdae lies on his left side and looks at Minseok, they both let out a chuckle.

“This is strange.”

Minseok’s eyebrows furrow and he lets out a confused sound.

“I mean, not … you are not strange. This is just … argh.” Jongdae rubs his face with a groan. “It wasn’t that difficult yesterday…”

“Lying down next to a stranger is weird, I understand. But I think we can say that we are not strangers anymore?”

“I guess…”

“Then this doesn’t have to be strange.”

Jongdae hums as answer and stares at Minseok’s shoulder. They stay silent for a second, before Jongdae asks: “Can I touch your arm?”

Minseok nods. Next, fingers trace his shirt where the bandages are underneath.

“I didn’t wrap this tight enough. We have to change them tomorrow.”

This time Minseok is the one humming. He observes Jongdae, while the man’s finger remains on his arm and starts to draw invisible patterns. The look on his face was nostalgic, but sad.

“The last person sleeping next to me was my grandmother…”

“I’m sorry.”

Jongdae hums and licks his lips. They have a defined cupid’s bow and a pretty pink colour. Following their movement, he hears Jongdae say “You are a bit like her.”

Curious, his gaze shifts to Jongdae’s eyes.

“She didn’t ask me weird questions. You don’t ask questions as other people do either.” Jongdae stops drawing and looks into Minseok’s eyes. “You don’t ask me why I am like this.”

Minseok doesn’t know what to answer. He had asked himself the question and tried to find answers to it, too. He averts his eyes.

“You think too good of me, Jongdae.”

“I don’t think so. You could have attacked me the second you saw me … cuddled to your side.” The last words are mumbled.

“That’s true, but I didn’t and now we are here. We don’t need to think about what if.”

“You’re right.” Jongdae takes a deep breath. “What use has dwelling about the past. I am alive, you are alive …” A yawn interrupts his words.

Chuckling, Minseok shifts his weight around a bit, but stops when his leg starts to hurt more.

“Thank you for letting me sleep in your house, Jongdae.”

He gets a hum as answer and Jongdae’s fingers curl around his arm. Minseok looks back to him, witnessing how eyelids close and lips curl into a smile.

“You’re like a cup …”

Confused, Minseok sees how Jongdae smacks his lips and nestles deeper into the pillow.

The cute sight brings a smile to his lips and he waits until the younger falls asleep. Observing Jongdae’s features, he sees the straight eyebrows without tension for once. Long eyelashes frame closed eyes and an opened, kittenish mouth lets out small puffs of air.

There are moles on his skin - one on the bridge of his nose, several around the eyebrows and one on his earlobe. His prominent cheekbones seem to be enhanced due to their proximity and he tries not to worry too much about how sunken they appear.

Inhaling a deep breath, Minseok closes his eyes.

“Good night, Jongdae.”


	3. 27th August 1870

Waking up has never been a pleasure for Jongdae, not since the incident.

His head seems to explode every time anew when his consciousness wins against sleep and senses return. There is a throbbing pain in his temples, pulsing into his ears and concentrating on his right one – as if it mourns the loss of its sibling.

His breathing gets strained, almost turning into wheezing. It’s his body’s way of trying to cope with the pain – as usual. Still with closed eyes, Jongdae lets out deep puffs of air, trying not to hyperventilate while he waits for his brain to accept the pain.

Slowly his mind calms down enough to become aware of his other body parts. His hand is holding something - but it hurts, like it had a cramp during the night and he didn’t move it enough. There is also the sensation of his own breath on his chin, bouncing off from something in front of his face. He can smell an enticing scent, salty and cottony and _different_. Something warm is pressed against his forehead and on instinct, Jongdae moves his left cheek closer.

Humming in content, his brain gets used to the pain and allows Jongdae to wake up completely now. Which leads into him realizing the warm something must be Minseok. The man. The not-a-stranger-anymore. _The not-his-enemy-anymore_. In his hut. In his _bed_.

Letting out a sigh, Jongdae knows better than to jolt away like yesterday. He would embarrass himself further than he probably already has, so he opens his eyes and is met with a brown shirt. It seems that he had clung himself to Minseok’s right side again, but this time luckily only to the arm.

Looking down to his hand, Jongdae retracts his fingers from their grip around Minseok’s thumb. Willing his blush away, he shifts his head and looks at the man’s face to check if Minseok is the first one being awake like yesterday.

Minseok’s head is turned to Jongdae, but his eyes are closed. The brows are furrowed and Jongdae realizes that the man is panting.

“Min-“ his voice cracks and he has to clear his throat. “Minseok?”

Moving himself into an upright position, he tests Minseok’s temperature with his hand against the forehead – luckily it isn’t warm enough to be alarming. The next thing he checks is the heartbeat, putting his hand above Minseok’s chest and with a frown he feels it pulse in a frantic manner.

His hand slips to the man’s right shoulder and he tries to wake him up with the hopes of not causing any pain.

“Please, Minseok, wake up.”

Applying more pressure, Jongdae is reminded of the scare he had yesterday. When he tried to wake Minseok for dinner, he didn’t respond or showed signs of breathing. This time he is panting, but it doesn't make his unresponsive state any better. Panic slowly makes its way into Jongdae’s mind.

“Minseok, wake up!”

This time, instead of panted breathing he hears a groan leave the man’s mouth. His eyes open and he looks around, disoriented and confused.

“Minseok?”

The eyes snap to him and Minseok flinches at his sight. Jongdae immediately distances himself with a hurt and worried look.

“Quoi-“ Minseok gets interrupted by a cough and Jongdae has to control himself not to comfort the man by touch. After catching his breath enough to talk again, he speaks. “What? Where?”

“Minseok, you have to calm down. You’re not in danger.”

At his words Minseok’s eyes scan the room further in alarm and Jongdae doesn’t know how to soothe him, when his mind can’t understand his words. Trying to keep his voice as calm and unthreatening as possible despite is growing panic, he continues.

“You are safe. You are okay. You are alright.” When Minseok’s only reaction is another cough, his tone gets more desperate. “Minseok, please, calm down. You’re hurting yourself, please.”

After repeating his words several times, the man finally calms down - slowing his panting into normal breathing. Minseok’s gaze shifts back to him.

“Jongdae?”

“Yes, you’re safe, Minseok.” He lets out a relieved sigh, trying to soothe his own panic.

Minseok takes deep breaths and looks at the ceiling. Jongdae gives him some moments to collect his mind before he has to express his concern, knowing he wouldn’t be able to calm his panicked thoughts otherwise.

“You scared me, Minseok. I thought-”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you better now?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you in much pain?”

Minseok closes his eyes and seems to check his body before he answers.

“My chest hurts more than yesterday. I am hungry though – do you have some food?”

Worried about the growing pain, Jongdae nods and leaves the bed. After lighting the fire and putting the pot on the hook, he goes to retrieve new clothes and the tooth soap box from the nightstand. Embarrassed, he notices that he didn’t wash the bowl Minseok had used yesterday.

“I’ll bring you a new one, then you can clean your teeth – okay?”

“Yeah.”

Minseok is staring at the ceiling again and Jongdae frowns.

“Are you sure you-“

“Please, Jongdae, could you … I want to be alone.”

Jongdae shuts his mouth, nods and leaves the hut with the things he had gathered with hurried steps.

* * *

Outside, he uses the outhouse and first cleans his teeth, then himself with a cloth and soap. While rubbing his hair, he tries to direct his thoughts away from Minseok by imagining himself with different hairstyles. He giggles at the idea of changing his hair colour, would he dare it if it’d be possible?

After dressing himself with a new set of clothes – a mint green shirt and brown pants, he empties the used bowls into some bushes and walks over to his sparse garden. It has some wild-grown phlox, blackberry bushes and thistles sprouting from the ground in random positions. The only well-kept plants were some vegetables and the lilac, which was cut to not become too big and stay healthy.

His grandmother loved lilac and used it as a natural fragrance. Since her death, Jongdae uses it as cologne as well, to honour her and cheer himself up with positive memories of his beloved.

Like the one where she strolled with him along the mudflats – Jongdae felt save in her presence and had fun analysing animal traces with her.

Or the one where she taught him how to work with clay, how to move his fingers to form the material and imprint his own artistic style onto it. How to leave something of himself to be remembered positively. Not to stay in memories because of his appearance or limitations.

At least he prefers to think that way.

Stopping himself before he loses his train of thoughts to the darker depths of his mind, he gets a garden knife and cuts some small branches with blooming lilac blossoms. He uses some to rub against his skin as cologne and while doing so, he gets the idea to take the rest inside. Maybe some decoration will cheer Minseok up.

His thoughts wander to the man and how to lift his mood – he should bring some cloths alongside the tooth soap and water, so that Minseok can clean himself too. His grandmother used to joke that when you’re clean, your sour mood will water down as well.

Filling the bowl for Minseok, Jongdae notices that his water supply wouldn’t be enough for him and Minseok to last the next week. Sighing, because he will have to boil new water, he gathers all the things for Minseok with the help of a casket and makes his way back into the hut.

Like yesterday, he opens the door slowly and peeks into the room. Minseok’s head is turned away, his shoulders are rising and falling steadily – the man probably fell asleep again. Entering as quiet as possible, Jongdae places the casket on the table and the bowl with the tooth soap box on the nightstand. He avoids looking at Minseok, to not get tempted to stare and get lost in thoughts.

Retrieving a vase instead, he goes back to the table and puts the lilacs into it. Before he can decide where to put them, his eyes catch sight of the stove and the pot above it.

“Oh no, I forgot the mash!”

With a cloth protected hand he places the pot on the table, lifting the lid in hopes that the mash didn’t burn. It doesn’t smell very pleasant, but at least it still looks edible and Jongdae gets a spoon to check the taste. It’s no chef’s masterpiece, but it will sate the stomachs of two men.

Scooping it into two bowls to let it cool down a bit, he thinks about where to place the lilacs. They look good on the table, but he realizes that Minseok won’t be able to properly see them there, so he places them on the nightstand.

Shortly after, the two bowls as well as spoons join the vase and before he wakes Minseok to ask if he wants to pray together this time, Jongdae stops in his motions.

Yesterday, Minseok got grumpy before dinner. Maybe he would get grumpy again – even if he was the one asking for food. It could have been a trick to get him to leave. But why does he even get grumpy?

Deep in thoughts, Jongdae sits down on the chair and despite his earlier attempts to stop his wandering mind – he gets lost pondering about reasons for Minseok’s actions.

Is it the food? No, he had asked Minseok specifically about the berries to get his approval. Or is it the mash itself? Jongdae can’t cook something different with the supplies in his hut, but he could get bread from the village. Maybe something unrelated to food … but what did Jongdae do?

His eyebrows shoot up when he realizes a difference between them – Minseok has never prayed, at least not openly in Jongdae’s presence. Maybe he wasn’t Christian? Jongdae doubts it, but he doesn’t know which religion the people in France have, so he can’t be too sure. It could still be that Minseok felt uncomfortable seeing Jongdae pray or that he can’t perform his own tradition.

Trying to keep the thought for a later conversation, Jongdae decides to pray in silence before he wakes Minseok. After he finished, his hand reaches out to Minseok’s shoulder. But he stops himself again - earlier the man didn’t react too kindly to being touched. Jongdae hopes the scene from this morning won’t repeat itself.

“Minseok, wake up. The mash is ready.”

Minseok’s head moves and ebony coloured eyes look back at him. Jongdae gulps.

“I’m sorry, Jongdae.” Minseok’s eyes become remorseful. “I didn’t want to be mean to you.”

Not expecting an apology, Jongdae doesn’t really know what to say. “Oh. Ehm, it’s okay.”

Wincing, Minseok sits up and turns towards him. “I shouldn’t have been so cold, I didn’t know-“

“Minseok, I’m not mad at you.” Jongdae sends him a smile to soothe his worries. “Let’s eat okay?”

Minseok seems like he still wants to say something, but Jongdae doesn’t want this to escalate into a fight so he cuts him off again by handing him a bowl. “It probably doesn’t taste that good – it got almost burned, I’m sorry.”

After a deep breath, Minseok takes it and sends Jongdae a tentative smile.

“I already noticed you’re not a chef.”

Sensing the attempt to lighten the atmosphere, Jongdae uses the chance.

“What~?” he whines in a high tone. “I never said I am!”

Minseok chuckles.

“But I like your style of mixing in things. I like the black- … blackberries.”

Jongdae nods with a big grin. “Thank you, but really, start eating or it will be cold.”

“Okay, okay.” Minseok gets the spoon and starts eating.

After some minutes of silence between them, Jongdae starts to speak again.

“I brought you the tooth soap again and a cloth if you want to clean yourself a bit.” Minseok looks at the nightstand and nods.

“Thank you.”

“Ehm, should I-“ Jongdae lowers his spoon and gives his best not to blush. “Should I help you undress? I don’t want you to hurt yourself…”

Minseok smile looks more like a smirk.

“That would be good. My leg and chest still hurt very much.”

“Okay…” Jongdae continues eating with slightly red cheeks.

After they finished eating, Jongdae collects the bowls and puts them into the sink. Stopping a second, he stares outside and gives his best not to think about undressing Minseok. His eyes catch sight of the uniform instead and he gets an idea.

“Minseok?” he turns around to look at him. “Would you prefer to get into your uniform when you finished cleaning yourself?”

Minseok makes an affirmative sound and continues rinsing his mouth.

“I’ll be back in a second.”

Jongdae leaves the hut to walk to the clothesline and after inspecting the uniform, he finds it dry and takes it off. With the clothes over his shoulder, he makes his way back to the hut but stops when he sees his water barrel. He really shouldn’t forget to fill up his water supply.

Back inside the hut, he puts the uniform beside Minseok’s legs and takes the used bowl with a smile. After he emptied it into the sink, he fills it up again with clear water and gets another one to do the same plus added soap - he puts both onto the nightstand. After he retrieved a towel, Jongdae sits down.

“Okay, can you- “ he clears his throat. “can you do your chest on your own again or is the pain too much?”

“I can try.” Is Minseok’s answer and he starts to undress his shirt.

Jongdae starts to blush, but it disappears when he sees how Minseok grinds his teeth together while turning his upper body to get out of the last sleeve. Obviously in pain, the man twists back and puts the shirt beside him. After unwrapping the bandages on the arms, they join the shirt. Grabbing the bowl with the soap and cloth, Minseok starts to wet his arms with it slowly.

It’s difficult for Jongdae to decide between averting his eyes and watching the man clean himself with obvious pain, so he tries to keep his internal panic at bay by staring at Minseok’s face. It doesn’t really help, because the furrowed brows and the wincing when he rubs over the scratches do nothing to soothe his worry.

When the man wrings the cloth and wets it with the soap-less water to clean himself further, Jongdae can’t take the pained expression anymore.

“Minseok, I’m sorry but I can’t watch your pain.” He stands up. “I-I-I have to, please, let me help you.”

Minseok’s head shoots up with a surprised expression.

“No, it’s okay.” His wincing when he tries to reach his left shoulder says something different. Jongdae sends him an obvious _Are you serious?_-look and takes the cloth out of his hand.

“I thought you don’t want to …” mutters Minseok as a last weak objection.

“Minseok. If you have anything against me, “ he has to gulp. “against me washing you, say it now.”

“Eh…”

“That’s what I thought.”

Surprised at his own words, Jongdae blushes and starts to run the cloth over the skin on Minseok’s left shoulder and arm. He gives his best to pay attention to get all the remains of soap washed away rather than to watch how the wetness enhances the muscles underneath.

With a small smile he notices that the scratches look good, even though he knows they still sting when he touches them gingerly and Minseok winces. To distract him from the pain he tells the man about the good healing process. Minseok hums and keeps observing him with amused eyes, lips pressed together.

When Jongdae distances himself to clean the other arm, Minseok moves to turn for him but Jongdae shakes his head and leans more over Minseok’s lap. Ebony eyes stare at his face and Jongdae has to concentrate to not look back and get lost.

After he finished cleaning and drying the other arm with the towel as well, he leans back and sits down again. With a worried look he thinks about the bandage on the chest.

“If your chest hurts that much, I don’t think it would be wise to unwrap the bandage. Or do you feel like you really have to clean it? But I’m not sure if I can wrap it again as good as it is now …”

“I’m sorry, but can you repeat that, please?” Minseok looks embarrassed. “That was too fast…”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Jongdae sends him an apologetic look. “Does your chest really need to be washed?”

Minseok looks down and seems to think.

“Not really.”

“Good.” Jongdae looks down as well, embarrassed. “Because I don’t know if I could do the bandage again.”

“But maybe my stomach? I just have to keep the bandage dry then.”

Alarmed, Jongdae’s head shoots up again and he watches with mixed feelings how Minseok washes his belly. Brown eyes follow the hand, drawing circles over a navel while his cheeks turn crimson. Getting lost in the view of the flat stomach of a man. The not-a-stranger-anymore. The _not-an-enemy-anymore_. In his hut. In his _bed_. With a half-naked chest. He gulps.

“Jongdae?” Minseok chuckles. “The towel please?”

Embarrassed, Jongdae looks into his lap to notice how he clutched the towel and hands it to Minseok while he avoids eye-contact. When he can see it lying beside Minseok out of the corner of his eyes, he lifts his gaze shyly and asks about Minseok’s legs.

“No, you don’t have to wash them.” Minseok’s tone is grim now. “But maybe look at the leg?”

Jongdae nods, stands up and pushes the blanket up to reveal Minseok’s right leg. He gingerly touches the bandage to check if it’s still wrapped tight enough. “Does this hurt?”

Minseok answers with a tense sound of affirmation and Jongdae hurries to unwrap the upper layers and rewrapping them more tightly. When he pulls too strong and Minseok grunts in pain, he apologizes profusely.

After he finishes, he’s pulling the blanket back down and apologizes again to Minseok for causing him pain, but the man just shakes his head.

“You can’t do anything against it, Jongdae. Don’t feel bad.”

“But I can.” Jongdae sits back down on to the chair and grabs the bandage still lying on the bed to disentangle it. “I could get you something from the village.”

“Is there a medicine man too?”

“You mean a doctor?”

“Eh, I guess I mean that, yes.”

“Then yes, there is a doctor.” Jongdae sighs and ends up fidgeting with the bandages. “But I’m afraid he won’t help us. I’m not really liked and he … let’s just say I’m not important enough to get his service.”

Minseok’s face turns angry, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed together.

“You are important. That’s unfair.” He stops to think. “Don’t go to the village. I don’t want something against the pain.”

Jongdae opens his mouth to protest, but Minseok’s angry gaze intimidates him enough to not argue further.

“Okay, I won’t go. For now!” Minseok sends him a displeased look. “When your pain gets worse, I must go. Minseok, I can’t watch you being in pain.”

Said man’s eyes get a warm gleam, he touches Jongdae’s hand to stop his fidgeting and grabs a bandage.

“You have a good heart, Jongdae.”

Jongdae’s cheeks get warm and with a small “Thank you” he hurries to prepare the bandages. The cloths don’t look too dirty, luckily the bleeding must have stopped fast. Minseok’s hand comes into view with a finished roll of bandage.

Jongdae sends him a smile and gets started to wrap it around the man’s left upper arm. When he asks him if it’s too tight, Minseok shakes his head and tries to turn his shoulders again to help Jongdae reach for his other arm. But Jongdae stops him with his hand.

“Wasn’t I clear enough earlier?” Jongdae tries to hide his concern behind a friendly chuckle. “I can reach it without help.”

Minseok’s answering hum sounds almost like a chuckle.

After Jongdae finished bandaging the other arm and successfully avoided staring into Minseok’s feline eyes, he stands back up and looks at the man and his work. Thinking about the next step, he asks:

“Do you want to get a new shirt or the one from the uniform?” With a look at the blue clothes, Jongdae has a thought that worries him. “I don’t think dressing you into your uniform jacket would be a good idea. You were already in pain while getting out of a shirt …”

Minseok nods with a sigh. “You’re right. The uniform jacket would be too heavy. Then just the shirt?”

Now Jongdae’s hum is the one that sounds amused – happy about his small victory over Minseok’s reluctance of minimizing his pain. He grabs the uniform shirt and while Minseok sluggishly stretches his arms, he pulls the fabric up to his shoulders.

“Can you do the buttons on your own?”

Minseok hums and starts to close the shirt. While he does so, Jongdae gathers the rest of the uniform and puts it into the chest to his other clothes.

“Jongdae?”

“Hmm?”

“What now?”

Jongdae looks at Minseok and catches him suppressing a yawn.

“Well, you seem tired.” He shoots Minseok a smile. “I suggest you get some more sleep.”

“But I don’t want to sleep the day away.” complains Minseok.

“Maybe read something? Perhaps I can find a book that interests you.”

“But my head is dizzy…”

Jongdae sighs, he is slowly getting annoyed at Minseok’s continuing rejections of his suggestions.

“Do you expect me to entertain you the whole day?”

“No! I don’t want you to be my nanny, I don’t want to be a bother.”

“That’s nice,” Jongdae has to suppress an annoyed tone. “because I won’t be here all day anyway.”

“What?” Minseok’s eyes widen. “Where do you go? For how long?”

Jongdae sighs. “I have to stock up my water supplies. That means I have to get water and that could take some time.” His mood doesn’t get better when he thinks about the stiff muscles he’ll get.

“But you’ll be back soon, right?”

“Minseok, please. Don’t worry, you will pass the time just fine.”

“That’s not what I mean!” The man’s eyebrows are tense. “I don’t … never mind. Please just hurry …”

Jongdae doesn’t understand what Minseok tries to express, but he knows that he is not calm enough right now to keep the conversation from escalating into a fight. Before he says something he’ll regret, Jongdae prefers to leave the man sulking. Letting out a tense sigh, he makes his way to the front door.

“I’ll be going then. Take care, Minseok.”

The door falls shut with a loud thud.

* * *

Outside, Jongdae stomps to the water barrel and looks inside once again. The rain didn’t help much to raise the water level. Jongdae suspects with downturned lips that he has to get at least three full buckets to get enough for them both. Collecting some buckets next to the barrel and after stacking them on top of each other, he carries them to the wheelbarrow.

Still irritated, he ignores the temptation of watching the plants sway in the wind and starts to pull the wheelbarrow in the direction of a nearby lake. Sadly, the sand isn’t as dense as yesterday and his mood dampens further in thought of the strenuous way back.

Pulling the wheelbarrow across the mud path, Jongdae puts his negative emotions into his steps and tries to come up with positive thoughts. If plants can’t catch his attention, maybe memories will.

He conjures pictures of his grandmother braiding a wreath of flowers, of himself wading through the mudflats and watching how the flood flows between his feet. Or an older one – the laugh of his mother, after he showed her his first caught frog. Or when he stood on their fisher boat, feeling the bree-

With a shriek, Jongdae tumbles knee-first to the ground. In the last second, he can catch himself with his arm – but his head is already exploding in pain. Eyes shut tightly and clenching his jaw, Jongdae lowers himself slowly to lie on his back and hopes that the world stops spinning soon.

Trying to keep his breathing from turning into panting, he presses his hand to his chest. It stings a bit from the sudden strain of supporting his body’s fall, but it doesn’t feel like it got any serious damage. His knees hurt as well, probably scratched up – he hopes they aren’t bleeding.

After taking deep breaths for some minutes, his head starts to throb less and Jongdae opens his eyes. The sky above is blue - with a random cloud here and there. Staring up, he calms his irritation from earlier and waits for the dizziness to disappear.

Moving himself into an upright position, he inspects his knees. Luckily, only his pants are torn and the skin got scratched, but there is no blood. Sighing in relief, Jongdae slowly stands up and inspects the ground for the cause of his fall.

There is a stone peeking out of the sand and with a sigh he puts the buckets that fell to the ground back onto the wheelbarrow. He is trying to think positive, at least the buckets are empty – if he falls on the way back it will be worse.

Now continuing his way to the lake with his eyes set on the ground, Jongdae starts to think about the almost fight. Minseok appears contradicting – saying he doesn’t want to be a bother but rejecting every suggestion Jongdae had. He doesn’t want to believe that Minseok thinks of him as an entertainer, now that he is more awake. Yet even that isn’t true – Minseok appears more exhausted than yesterday and his pain is worse too.

That’s another issue - why is he so stubborn about his pain? Does he not want to lessen it?

Jongdae stops.

Does Minseok not want to lessen his pain, because he thinks he deserves it? That he wants to punish himself?

With newfound determination to get back as fast as possible, Jongdae starts walking faster and soon he arrives at the lake. All three buckets get filled with water and after carefully arranging them on the wheelbarrow, Jongdae starts his way back to his hut.

This time, Jongdae pays extra attention to the ground to not fall again and make his earlier worse case imagination reality.

* * *

When he arrives at his hut, Jongdae places the buckets beside the front door and pulls the wheelbarrow back to its place. Getting an additional bucket, he walks back to the door and opens it slowly. The situation from this morning repeats – his peek inside shows Minseok asleep.

Careful to be as quiet as possible he carries the buckets inside and places them next to the stove. Retrieving a pot, he starts the fire again and pours some water into the pot. Then he hangs it on to the hook above the stove. Using a cloth, soap and some water Jongdae cleans the additional bucket for the soon-to-be boiled water.

“Jongdae?”

He turns around. “Yes, is everything okay?”

Big ebony eyes look back at him and Minseok is breathing heavy.

“Je-, I’m sorry, Jongdae.”

Jongdae frowns, Minseok sounds weak – more strained and in pain as before. He puts the cleaning stuff away and places the bucket next to the other ones, before he makes his way to Minseok’s side.

“Hey, everything is okay.” He sits down and Minseok’s eyes don’t let him out of sight. “I’m sorry that I got mad.”

Now that he’s closer he can see how Minseok’s eyes are red and how strained he’s breathing.

“I’m sorry. Jongdae-“ he coughs.

“Minseok, hey, calm down.” Keeping his voice steady, his instinct screams at him to ignore the earlier assumption of Minseok’s aversion against touch. Thus, he tentatively lies a hand on Minseok’s shoulder to soothe him. The man’s eyes are still staring at him.

“It hurts.”

“I know.” Running his hand down to Minseok’s, he grabs it and squeezes to give the man a different bodily sensation than the pain. “I will go to the village and get-“

“Non! Please don’t.” Minseok shakes his head.

Jongdae’s eyebrows shoot up in disbelief.

“But why? If you think you have to punish yourself because of something, please, don’t!” He squeezes their hands stronger.

“No, Je-I just, I don’t-“ Minseok takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to be alone. Please, don’t leave.”

Stunned, Jongdae’s mouth hangs open and he doesn’t react immediately.

“It hurts more every time I wake up.” Minseok gulps. “Please, can you … you let me-“

“Hey, hey, Minseok. I’m here.” Jongdae leans forward to be closer. “I’m here, I don’t have to go if you don’t want.”

Minseok shakes his head again.

“Please, don’t leave. I know I am a bother. Je-I know … I know it’s unfair, but please don’t leave.”

“Then I won’t.” Jongdae bites his lip, he doubts he will be able to keep that promise when the man’s pain gets worse.

Minseok’s hand returns a squeeze and he stares at the ceiling while still breathing heavy.

“Please, calm down and take deep breaths.”

Still squeezing their hands, he keeps talking until Minseok looks at him with an unknown depth that startles him.

“Thank you.”

Jongdae sends him a small smile but stays quiet – still a bit overwhelmed by the man’s gaze.

Suddenly, there is a hissing sound coming from the stove and both men flinch. With wide eyes, Jongdae jumps up and stumbles due to his motion induced headache. He takes a deep breath to ignore it better, before he walks to the stove. There, he takes a cloth and gets the pot from the hook, placing it onto the table to cool off.

Still full of energy due to the scare, Jongdae starts to hum a fast song while he massages his temple. He loses himself in the motion for a second, letting words slip out additionally to the humming.

“You have a wonderful voice.”

Jongdae turns to face Minseok and sends him a bashful smile.

“Thank you. I used to sing a lot.”

“Can I hear more,” Minseok has his head turned to Jongdae, but his eyes are closed. “Can you sing more, please?”

“Oh-okay.”

He starts to sing quietly and while he pours the warm water into the clean bucket, it gets louder and braver. Filling the pot with the water left in the first bucket, he changes the song to a sombre one and stares outside.

There are more clouds now and the colour is a darker blue than a while back. Jongdae can see the flowers swinging in the wind, it must be quite a strong one since the lilac is moving as well.

He hopes that there won’t be a storm.

The song finds its end in a soft high note and Jongdae turns towards the stove again. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees the steady rise and fall of Minseok’s chest and his lips curl into a small smile.

Jongdae isn’t completely satisfied with the outcome of their conversation, but at least they both apologized and Jongdae understands Minseok better now. Even if the man is too stubborn for his own good. But Jongdae isn’t a saint either – giving a promise he’s sure he can’t keep.

Ashamed, Jongdae averts his eyes from Minseok’s silhouette and hangs the pot on the hook. There, he gets lost in the view of the flames. Dancing to an unknown rhythm from left to right, creating sparks and smoke. Maybe the cracking wood is their music? The sparks their magic?

Jongdae doesn’t know how long he stares into the fire, but the bubbling sound of the boiling water brings him back. Repeating the action from earlier, he ends up with another pot of water above the stove and a full bucket of warm, fresh water.

With a quick glance to Minseok he makes sure the man is still sleeping and leaves the hut with the freshwater bucket. After emptying it into the water barrel, he hurries back inside.

For a moment he just stands in the middle of the room, not knowing what to do.

His eyes wander to Minseok and Jongdae sees the two bowls which the man used to clean himself with are still placed on the nightstand. He takes them to the sink and washes them, before he turns around to look for more things to do.

The water is not boiling yet, he doesn’t want to read and watching Minseok sleep is definitely a no-go. Out of impulse, Jongdae walks to one of his shelves and starts rearranging things. To keep his thoughts from running away, he starts to sing again.

It doesn’t really work though. When he sorted the cups by their patterns, he’s already deep into an internal debate about broken pottery and their similarity to humans. When they’re made, they are viewed as perfect. But with the flow of time, they get used and take damage in form of cracks in their body. Until it is too much – they shatter, crushed by the expectation put onto them, to continuously perform without complaining.

Jongdae wonders if him fixing them helps to get them back on track and work again, as if nothing happened. Because the cracks can still be seen by everyone, but the pottery can still do its job. Maybe in a different manner or not as good as before, but it reaches its metaphorical goal.

He stops stacking cups on each other, when he asks himself if he even has a goal. Surviving would be the closest one - but that’s a human instinct. Trying to avoid thinking further about himself, Jongdae turns around.

With a look at a sleeping silhouette he wonders what Minseok’s goal is. Since he ruled out surviving, the next logical thing would be family. Minseok has mentioned his mother - nothing more. But she can’t wait for him back in France, his home – so who does?

His father, maybe siblings? A girlfriend? A _wife_?

With a heavy feeling, Jongdae turns around and realizes with a flinch that he forgot the water again. When he gets to the stove, the water is boiling with huge bubbles – some splashes fall onto the burning wood, creating hissing sounds.

Putting the pot onto the table again, he sits down and stares at the wooden tabletop. Now he has to wait for the water to cool down again and his mind is already back – a storm of deep thoughts, throwing pictures of broken cups, Minseok with a woman and Jongdae’s hand forming clay together.

Following discarded clothes and a rumbling thunderstorm, Minseok leaving while laughing at him, shattered ceramic shards cutting his skin. Mixing together flower patterns too similar to familiar tree marks, strong hands gripping him, the clashing of waves and the overwhelming pressure in his ear when all he could do was staring up into the dark ocean-

“Jongdae!”

Wheezing and gripping the edge of the table until his knuckles turn white, Jongdae comes back to his senses with a sick feeling. Swallowing several times, he looks at the direction from where the voice is calling. Ebony eyes stare back at him with eyebrows raised in concern.

“Jongdae?”

Calming down his breathing, he nods.

“I’m fine. Nothing happened.” He swallows again and while stumbling his way to Minseok, he keeps mumbling to himself. “I’m okay, I’m alive.”

Minseok looks still concerned when he sits down.

“Are you really okay?”

Jongdae nods again, but Minseok raises a brow.

“Please, Minseok. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay … ehm.” Minseok looks away and fidgets with his hands. “Can I talk to you about something different then?”

Jongdae’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he appreciates the possibility of changing the topic.

“Ehm, of course.”

“Okay, I dreamed of something and … I don’t know how to interpret it?”

“Oh, I don’t know if I can help with that …”

“I just, I’m confused.” Minseok frowns. “I can remember my family. I have two little sisters and my father is a fisherman.”

At this, Jongdae is startled. Avoiding thinking about his own father, he tries to silence his thoughts by saying that it’s just a coincidence. Minseok looks at him and seems to notice his absent mind. With an apologizing look, Jongdae asks:

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said that my mother died and that I dreamed about smelling lilac and …” he clears his throat. “And that I ruffled someone’s hair. But … I don’t recognize the person.”

Jongdae hums and thinks.

“Maybe it’s a friend you had in the navy?”

“Possible … but I don’t know.” He rubs his hand with his hand. “I don’t even know why I joined the navy. Was my family not safe? I’m so worried they’re waiting for me and are hurt themselves …”

“We can’t know that for sure, Minseok.” Feeling brave, Jongdae takes Minseok’s hand away from his face and squeezes it. “You have to stay positive. For you and for them.”

Minseok lets out a heavy sigh.

“You’re right.”

Jongdae thinks about what Minseok said and remembers his own thoughts about the man’s family from earlier. “So, you have two sisters? What are they like?”

“Oh,” Minseok chuckles. “two little brats that know how to use their puppy eyes. Especially Henriette.”

Jongdae chuckles as well and impulsively, before his courage leaves him, he asks:

“Do you remember other people that could be waiting for you? Friends? A girlfriend?”

Minseok moves his hand out of Jongdae’s grip and interlocks his fingers on his lap, appearing to be deep in thoughts.

“I don’t really remember, but there is probably a girl I wrote letters with. Everybody does, right?”

Jongdae nods with a grim smile.

“Now that I think about it … I guess there is one girl. We grew up together and if I would write someone, it would be her.”

“What’s her name?”

“Laurine.” Minseok sends Jongdae a small smile. “She had a crush on a friend of mine and during her attempts to catch his attention, we grew close instead. Everyone expected us to get engaged.”

Jongdae gulps. “But you didn’t?”

Minseok shakes his head.

“No, we were never interested in each other that way. We just protected one another.”

“Oh, I see …” Jongdae doesn’t know what to think about that. He never really had the pressure to get engaged, because there wasn’t anyone that could possibly want to. His parents tried.

“And what about you, Jongdae? Do you have someone?”

Preferring to keep his parent’s awkward attempts at matchmaking a secret, he shakes his head.

A light chuckle can be heard. “Right, your modest house gives enough hints.”

With a surprised look at Minseok, he can see a light-hearted grin.

“Hey~!” Jongdae whines. “My hut is perfect as it is. I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.”

A small laugh. “I can see that, Jongdae.”

They smile at each other for a few seconds, before Jongdae stands up and walks to the table. The pot has cooled down now, so he pours it into the freshwater bucket. He lifts his head and notices how Minseok is observing him, so he sends him a smile to share the attention.

Now getting the second bucket and pouring half of its water into the pot, he hangs it on the hook again. After adding some wood and helping the fire to burn better, Jongdae turns around to sit back down and talk to Minseok, but the man’s eyes are closed now.

Giving him space to find rest, he decides to read something to avoid thinking too deep. After Jongdae retrieved a book, he sits down at the table and starts reading. Like earlier, he didn’t hear the boiling water immediately and had to rush to get it.

When the last pot hangs on the hook, he gets another one to prepare a new batch of mash. After he checked if Minseok is still asleep, he gets a casket and hurries outside to the blackberry bush. Jongdae picks some berries while giving his best to not get hurt by the thorns and goes back inside, where he cleans them a bit before he puts them aside. Continuing to read, he waits for everything to be finished.

Jongdae’s reading gets interrupted when he hears a groan. Putting his book down, he looks worried to Minseok and sees him moving in his sleep. He can’t seem to find a comfortable position until his arms are partially over his head.

Observing Minseok for further signs of discomfort, Jongdae’s heart hurts seeing the man in pain, as if it shares his agony. His parents used to get mad at his empathetic side, punishing him to make him stronger. But what made Jongdae stronger was the nurture of his grandmother, who cared for him when no one else did. Not even Jongdae himself.

But she showed him that different doesn’t mean bad, that you’re not worthless if you’re not like others. That you are still human – with rough edges, strengths and weaknesses.

Now Jongdae just needs to keep saying this to himself and one day he may truly believe it. So far, he is thankful to be alive and to be able to live a life on his own. That counts as a positive thought about oneself – right?

* * *

When the mash is ready, Jongdae scoops some into two bowls and gets the blackberries to decorate it in a nice way. He hasn’t cooked for another person since his grandmother passed away and it feels nice to care for someone. Even if his cooking skills aren’t outstanding, Minseok seems to like it – he even complimented on the blackberries! With a chuckle, Jongdae realizes how domestic he is.

After sitting down next to Minseok, he speaks a prayer and pep talks himself into asking the man about his issue with religion. But before, he must wake him up and let him eat - if he doesn’t blurt out the question earlier than planned.

Taking a deep breath, he follows his assumption about Minseok’s aversion against touch and tries to wake the man only with his voice.

“Minseok, dinner’s ready. Please wake up.”

A groan can be heard, Minseok’s hands wander from above his head to his face and he rubs it. He takes deep breaths and turns his head to Jongdae.

“Eh? Is it dinner time already?” A pout follows. “I don’t feel rested at all.”

Jongdae frowns. “I hope you’ll sleep better this night.”

Minseok hums and winces when he moves himself into an upright position against the headboard. Jongdae hands him a bowl plus spoon and they start to eat in silence.

While doing so, Jongdae tries to be as inconspicuous as possible in observing Minseok. Despite the wince, the man doesn’t appear to have strong pains like the last time he woke up, but Jongdae can’t be too sure either. Maybe it isn’t a great idea to ask him about his religion when his mood seems somewhat positive – it obviously is a sensitive issue and Jongdae doesn’t really want to dampen his mood.

But isn’t it a good timing to ask, especially because Minseok’s in a good mood? That his mind isn’t clouded by pain – causing his reactions to be stubborn and grumpy.

Jongdae isn’t as discreet as he hopes he is – Minseok stopped eating and looks at him with furrowed brows.

“Do you want to say something, Jongdae?”

Jongdae’s gaze flits between Minseok’s face and his bowl.

“Yes. No.” He sighs. “I want to ask something, but I don’t want to anger you.”

“Well, we won’t know until you ask.”

“Yeah …” He looks down at his hand, fidgeting with the bowl. “I guess you’re right.”

There are some silent seconds, before Jongdae finds enough courage to voice his thoughts.

“Does my religion make you uncomfortable?”

Insecure, he keeps staring at his hand and only hears Minseok’s sharp inhale.

“Oh, ehm … I guess, yeah.” Jongdae grinds his teeth with a feeling of guilt. “But maybe not in the way you think?” Minseok’s voice sounds unsure and surprised by his words, Jongdae looks up.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not your religion … or is it? I don’t know …” Minseok breaks their eye-contact. “Seeing you pray just showed me how messed up I am.”

Jongdae furrows his eyebrows in confusion, but he tries to stay silent to let Minseok sort his thoughts.

“I’m sorry that I got mad yesterday, but … I realized that I forgot it?” He rubs his face again. “Mais … B-but how can I forget that I’m religious? I don’t even remember parts of it in my past, like … like the baptism of my sisters! Je- I must have been there …”

With a tentative look, Jongdae places his bowl onto the nightstand and touches Minseok’s shoulder to soothe the man. He hopes the touch won’t fuel his agitated thoughts.

“Minseok …” the man looks at him through his fingers. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine how you must feel, but … please know that it doesn’t make you a bad man.”

“It’s not just that …” Minseok sighs. “I can’t remember anything about the last weeks either. I thought there would be memories coming back by now …”

“You had the dream though.”

“Yeah, but I can’t know for sure if it’s from my past or just …” Again, a sigh. “I don’t know. I’m so annoyed at myself! Why do I have to be like this? Why can’t I remember? Pourquoi?”

Jongdae’s heart hurts at the desperate words and he runs his hand down Minseok’s arm in comfort. Thinking about his own past, he answers: “Do you have to?”

Minseok looks at him in surprise and he continues. “Do you have to remember in such a short time? It’s only been a bit over a day.”

His hand motions stop and feeling brave, Jongdae clasps Minseok’s wrist and locks their hands together like earlier.

“Please don’t pressure yourself too much. Like I said, stay positive. Give your brain time. Maybe it doesn’t want to remember.”

Minseok frowns at this. “What? Why would it?”

“Well, … maybe there is a reason for you forgetting? Maybe your brain wanted to forget.”

Minseok gets wary and narrows his eyes. “That sounds like you speak from experience.”

Jongdae swallows heavy. “I do, kind of. I wish I could forget certain things.”

“You mean what made-“

“No. Not the incident. I’ve come to terms with the way I am.” Jongdae shakes his head and looks steady into Minseok’s eyes. “I mean my family. I wish I could forget how my family cast me out. How they turned their backs to me when I needed them the most. They threw me away.”

Minseok’s eyes widen. “I’m sorry.” He squeezes their hands.

“Don’t be. You can’t change how they see me.” Jongdae’s face turns grim. “That I am useless for them. Pathetic. Weak.”

“No, Jongdae. You are not weak.” Surprised, he looks up to meet Minseok’s upset eyes. “You are strong. Look how you master living alone. You … you can do things with your one hand that I cannot with two. Please don’t say bad things of you.”

Jongdae’s lips curl into a soft smile and he squeezes back.

“Thank you. We don’t really know each other for long, but you say such nice words to me.”

He breaks their eye contact and looks at their intertwined hands. He notices just now that Minseok strokes his thumb down Jongdae’s finger, which leads to his cheeks turning red. Jongdae averts his eyes and catches sight of the still half-filled bowl in Minseok’s lap.

“I’m sorry for interrupting dinner.”

Minseok chuckles.

“No problem, I don’t have much hunger anyway.”

Jongdae looks at him with worry.

“Don’t look at me with your puppy eyes. I can’t force myself to swallow.”

Minseok’s word cause Jongdae’s cheeks to redden and to distract himself from indecent thoughts, he takes their bowls. After pouring the rest of Minseok’s mash into the pot, he places them into the sink.

Looking outside, Jongdae notices with worry how dark the sky turns and decides to get ready for bed early. Turning around to look at Minseok, he asks: “Is it okay if I go outside for a bit? I’m only fetching the tooth soap.”

He hears an affirmative hum coming from Minseok and with a small smile to the man, he leaves the hut. Doing his business at the outhouse, he cleans his teeth and collects some things for Minseok in a casket.

On his way back, he can avoid getting lost in thought at the view of the darkening sky. But his eyes catch the lilac instead and when he’s in front of it, he rubs some blossoms on his skin like he did this morning. Maybe Minseok will notice the fragrance when they lie close - Jongdae blushes at the thought.

When he enters the hut, he gets a bowl with water for Minseok and they repeat their makeshift teeth cleaning routine. When everything is taken care of, Jongdae goes to the chest and shoots Minseok a pointed look when said man doesn’t avert his eyes.

“Would you be so kind?”

Minseok laughs in a low tone and turns his head away in an exaggerated way. Amused at his reaction, Jongdae pouts and changes into a long-sleeved sleepshirt and short underwear. When he gets on the bed his heart screams in anxiety, but he reminds himself of their conversation yesterday. They are not-a-stranger, _not-an-enemy_, anymore so he doesn’t have to feel anxious, right?

But not-strangers doesn’t mean best friends who can share a bed without blushing, answers his brain. A tentative look in the man’s direction and their eyes lock in an instant. Minseok’s amused expression turns gentle and Jongdae gets a warm smile send his way. He smiles back, his anxiety soothed by the inviting gesture and his heart beating fast due to Minseok’s attentiveness.

When he crawled his way to the man’s side, Jongdae doesn’t lie down but stays in an upright position with bended knees. Minseok looks at him with a raised brow.

“I’m not tired yet.” Jongdae pouts.

Minseok chuckles. “Well, how could I be of help to you, oh little Prince Dae?” Jongdae can hear the obvious grin.

“Hey~!” Jongdae whines. “I’m not little!” His lips curl into a smirk. “But I’m glad you finally acknowledge my blue blood, it was time. I thought my fancy hut gives enough hints.”

Their eyes meet and they start to laugh.

Suddenly Minseok stops, holding his left side and his laugh turns into panting. Noticing his pain, Jongdae skids closer with worried eyebrows and extends his hand, not knowing if touching would be okay. But Minseok grips it, intertwining their fingers on top of Jongdae’s knees.

Surprised and with glowing cheeks, he tries to get Minseok’s eye-contact when his breathing doesn’t improve.

“Hey, try to take deep breaths. I’m here, Minseok.”

The grip intensifies, Minseok has his eyes closed shut and is still panting. Jongdae keeps talking to him, moving his thumb in soothing circles and counting a steady rhythm to help Minseok calm his breath. When his pain hasn’t improved in the morning, Jongdae promises to himself to get something to lessen it.

When the breathing gets better, Minseok detaches his hand from his left side and rubs his face with a groan. Jongdae doesn’t know how to help him further, so he keeps drawing circles with his thumb. Minseok seems to realize it just now, because his gaze flits to their interlocked hands.

Both start to blush and Minseok opens his mouth to say something, but his eyebrows start to furrow and before Jongdae can ask what’s wrong, he says: “Where did you get these?”

Not knowing what he’s talking about, Jongdae follows his gaze to his knees.

“Oh … I fell on the way to the lake.” He feels Minseok’s look on him and tries to soothe his worries. “Nothing happened, I’m fine.” Jongdae smiles at him.

But Minseok doesn’t smile back, still frowning. “Please be careful. I can’t help you out there.”

“Thank you for caring, Minseok.” Jongdae’s smile turns tense. “But I am fine. I don’t need a saviour.”

Minseok’s eyes grow wide. “Please don’t misunderstand! I know you’re strong and don’t need to be saved.” Now his tone gets shy. “But I just can’t help to worry. If something happens … I won’t know because I’m stuck to this bed. I’m sorry.”

Jongdae stops smiling, surprised by the protective side of the man and he squeezes their still intertwined fingers.

“You don’t have to apologize for having a good heart, Minseok.”

They share a soft smile, which gets interrupted by Minseok yawning.

“Look who’s tired.” Jongdae smile is fond.

Minseok hums, lets go of Jongdae’s hand and moves to lie down with a small groan. But he turns his head to Jongdae with a smile and the young man blushes under his tender gaze.

“Can you sing for me, Dae?”

Jongdae’s eyes grow wide, his cheeks turning even redder – but he nods before he lies down on his left side, covers himself with a blanket and locks eyes with Minseok. The man is watching him with a depth in his eyes that overwhelms Jongdae. But he finds enough courage to clear his throat and starts singing.

First his voice is shy, but the warmth in Minseok’s eyes encourages him to turn confident and he adds some vocal runs, which elicits a whispered “Woah.” from the man. Reassured by this, Jongdae finds the courage to intertwine their fingers again. Minseok closes his eyes at this and squeezes them with a content hum.

Trying to keep his voice quiet, Jongdae sings until he can see how Minseok’s breath is calm. His words turn into humming, while he watches the rise and fall of the broad chest and cherishes the warmth of his hand.

It takes some time, but eventually his humming gets quieter and then ceases completely.


	4. Interlude

The moment Minseok gains consciousness, the pain in his chest is exploding and he’s panting heavy puffs of air. He knows that something’s different. It’s just a feeling, but his eyes open and dart from one dark patch to another. It’s still dark, still night and he should be asleep. Paying more attention to his surroundings, the sharp pain in his chest comes from an added weight – his eyes can make out a shoulder. Following its angles, he recognizes the mop of hair lying on his chest.

Jongdae is almost draped over him, with his sternum pressed against Minseok’s arm and his head adding weight on his right collarbone. His right shoulder lies on Minseok’s chest and the arm is spread over Minseok’s left side to his collarbone and the pressure on his ribs lets him see stars.

“Jongdae-” His voice is only a gasp, too quiet to be heard by the sleeping man.

While doing his best to not worsen his pained breathing, Minseok lifts his left arm and grasps Jongdae’s hand to slowly push it to the man’s chest. Shifting his grip to an angular shoulder, he tries to be gentle while pushing Jongdae off himself.

Listening for any sign of Jongdae waking up, he keeps pushing until the man lies on his back. Now his left side is revealed and in the darkness, Minseok can make out vague lines on Jongdae’s neck. Keeping himself from tracing the patterns, he tries to find a different position to fall asleep again.

After a few silent minutes, he hears the crinkling sound of the blanket being moved and soon there is a warmth on his neck again. A fond sigh leaves Minseok’s lips, Jongdae’s need to cuddle wakes his protective side and Minseok doesn’t want to push the man off this time. But he opens his eyes to check if at least Jongdae’s new position won’t be causing him additional pain.

Jongdae is lying on his left shoulder again, but this time he must have skidded higher – because he is curling in on himself while pressing his chest from above against Minseok’s shoulder, with his head buried in his neck.

Minseok blushes at the intimacy, but unlike the first morning waking up to Jongdae snuggled into his side, he has enough time now to decide if it’s uncomfortable or not.

Considering the last two days, another list forms in his head: how Jongdae’s presence helps him to ignore the pain, the care and fondness Jongdae shows, his never-ending worry with his expressive eyebrows and curled lips, his optimism, his amazing strength, the sound of his heavenly singing, his flowery cologne, his adorable blush, the endearingly stubby fingers and tiny waist – and not to forget his bubble butt.

With a grin he concludes _definitely not uncomfortable_.

Giving his best to not get too excited, he concentrates on Jongdae’s puffs of air against his ear and the warmth they’re sharing. Closing his eyes, Minseok falls asleep some moments later with a scene playing in his head - with two men strolling down a beach, laughing.


	5. 28th August 1870

The next time Minseok wakes up it’s the same as before – his chest explodes in pain and he’s panting. For a second he wonders if he fell asleep at all, because he doesn’t feel any better. He opens his eyes a bit and glances at his chest, to check if Jongdae cuddled too close again. Which is not the case.

Unfortunately, his chest pain stems from itself it seems. Throbbing on its own in such an agonizing way that Minseok can’t even say if his broken leg hurts as well. The pain starts in his rips with a nauseating ache, then it makes its way to his stomach to burn him from inside. Minseok doesn’t know how to think for a moment, he feels hot, he’s grinding his teeth and his brain refuses to work.

Then, an unfamiliar sensation at his neck startles him enough to escape the stupor and alarmed he tries to see what it is. But his cheek gets tickled by hair and his chin meets warm skin.

Jongdae.

The man is pressing his head into Minseok’s neck and based on the puffs feeling different against his skin, he guesses that Jongdae breathes through his nose rather than his mouth. But that’s probably because it’s occupied with other things - like sucking Minseok’s neck.

At the realization, Minseok starts to feel hot due to different reasons than pain. He’s welcoming the distraction but is also torn about keeping his tender thoughts about Jongdae fond, instead of the direction they’re going right now. Yet, he can’t stop himself at focussing on the feeling of Jongdae’s lips.

Jongdae keeps pressing them onto the delicate skin in the crook of his neck, alternating between hard tight-lipped kisses and soft open-mouthed sucks. The latter ones create a smacking sound now and then, followed with Jongdae audibly swallowing – both failing to prevent Minseok’s blood from rushing south.

He gets a whiff of a flowery fragrance and moving his nose closer to the mop of hair, he can smell the powdery sweet scent mixed with a more heavy, peppery aroma – _Jongdae_.

Inhaling deep breaths to keep the pain away, he treasures the scent and suddenly he has the feeling of a déjà-vu – a person smelling of spices, cuddled into his side. Minseok has his fingers in the person’s hair and draws soothing circles. The person mumbles something he can’t hear, but the voice is pleasant and sounds familiar – it reminds him of something. But then there’s a loud ringing of a bell, he has troubles breathing, men are shouting, and the person’s head lifts from his chest to look at him with scared eyes. Minseok wants to give comfort, but an airless gasp leaves his lips instead of words and suddenly he’s cold and can’t breathe. All he can hear-

“Minseok!”

There is no air in his lungs and each breath he takes doesn’t help to clear the dizzying panic in his mind. It’s dark and he can’t see, he can’t move and there is shouting. It’s cold and he can’t breathe and he can’t-

“Please, Minseok! Calm down!”

His eyes snap open and he can see again, but there is a face too close and he still can’t breathe. He looks around quickly and tries to recognize where he is. There’s a table with a chair, the face, a stove, a shelf-

“Min-Minseok?”

His eyes flit back to the face - huge brown eyes with furrowed eyebrows look back. The lips are thinly pressed together, nothing of their kittenish nature visible. It’s Jong-

“Dae!”

It’s only a gasp, but the man hears it and there’s a soft touch at his hand. Minseok grabs it like a lifeline, squeezing to know where he is. That Jongdae is here. He’s not alone. He’s safe, he isn’t dying.

“Deep breaths, Minseok, take deep breaths.”

It’s obvious that Jongdae tries to soothe him, but his voice is shaking and his eyes express distress. He starts to count in a rhythm, from one to ten – repeating, repeating. Minseok stares at the ceiling and concentrates on his voice to match his breathing.

When he doesn’t feel like suffocating any longer, he lessens the pressure on Jongdae’s hand and looks at him. His brown eyes have a sadness in them that Minseok can’t stand to see. Jongdae breaks their eye-contact and lets go of Minseok’s hand, but he misses the warmth immediately.

“Non …” Minseok can catch the retreating hand and intertwines their fingers again. Jongdae looks at him in surprise.

“I thought,” Jongdae’s voice is shy. “I thought you don’t like me waking you up with … touching you.”

“No, it’s okay.” He grins still a bit breathless at Jongdae and squeezes their fingers for emphasis. “I like it.”

Jongdae’s cheeks redden but he smiles back.

“Eh, if it helps you?” Minseok nods. “Then it’s good I’m getting used to it I guess.”

His grin broadens into a gummy smile, happy to hear their intimate contact isn’t uncomfortable for Jongdae. Said man seems to be frozen for a second, staring at him – before his cheeks blush even more and he breaks their eye-contact to look at his knees. Minseok has to keep himself from cooing.

With a smile he looks at Jongdae and realizes how fast thoughts about him can overpower his pain. Maybe it doesn’t help him to heal, but Minseok can’t imagine something better to distract him from his aching body and to calm him down after his … nightmare.

It was a nightmare, wasn’t it?

He frowns, remembering a person next to him and then there’s chaos – it’s dark, there is shouting, and he can’t breathe and he is so, so cold.

“Minseok?” asks a tentative voice. “Are you okay?”

_Is he okay?_ “Je-,ah. I don’t know …” _But what does he know?_ “I saw something, but I don’t know if it is a memory or if it was just a nightmare. There was a …. A person with me … But …”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“But I want, I guess.” He takes a deep breath and sees how Jongdae tilts his head a bit to the left. Minseok feels warm, knowing that Jongdae is truly listening helps to see through the chaos in his mind.

“There was a person with me, we shared a bunk and they reminded me of something, but I don’t know of what.”

“Do you remember how they looked?”

“No, I just … We cuddled and I caressed their hair?”

“Oh, okay.” Jongdae’s voice sounds off. “Do you remember anything else?”

“There were men shouting and-“ Minseok has to swallow. “And a bell. I couldn’t breathe and it was cold. It was dark and I couldn’t move and-and”

“Hey, you’re safe Minseok.” Jongdae squeezes his fingers. “You’re here, not there.”

Minseok lifts his gaze and looks into Jongdae’s face – he sees brown warmth, a hesitant smile and eyebrows furrowed in concern once again. Oh, how lucky he is to be found by such a big-hearted man.

“Thank you, Jongdae.”

Jongdae’s face gets unreadable for a second, then his curled lips stretch into a huge smile that crunches his cheeks and minimizes his eyes into crescents. Minseok’s sure to treasure this picture.

The smile simmers down into a gentle curve and after Jongdae’s eyes meet his once more, a blush appears on the younger’s cheeks. A sudden urge to tease him and make him blush even more grows in Minseok and he starts to draw circles onto the back of Jongdae’s hand. Said man narrows his eyes a bit, observing him.

With a growing grin, Minseok lightly tabs his fingers to an imaginary rhythm – tickling along a slender wrist and starting to wander upwards, carefully scratching his nails along soft skin. Jongdae presses his lips together and Minseok’s worried to have overstepped a line, he opens his mouth to say something – but in the same moment his finger accidentally slips under the cloth, Jongdae lets out a squeak.

Quickly unclasping Minseok’s hand, Jongdae covers his mouth, his eyes wide – looking embarrassed at his own reaction.

“I’m so-“

“I have to go outside!”

Jongdae scurries down the bed with crimson cheeks and Minseok is caught off guard, his “What? Wait!” is too late. The younger is already hurrying to the front door after getting clothes out of the chest, eyes set on the floor.

With the sound of the door falling shut, Minseok rubs his face with a groan. Why did he rush it?

* * *

“Minseok?”

There is a palm against his forehead and his eyes shoot open.

Brown ones meet his and Jongdae looks concerned. A quick glance around shows three bowls on the nightstand, the lilacs from yesterday gone - did he fall asleep again?

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just … tired, I guess.”

Now that he says it, he starts to feel the exhaustion from the emotional cocktail earlier - coupled with the draining ache in his whole body, creeping through his veins. His arms feel heavy and so does his uninjured foot. The broken leg is still throbbing, shooting pain up his thigh when he moves it unconsciously.

“You can sleep more when you’ve eaten.” Jongdae motions for him to sit up. “Come on, Minseok.”

But the movement isn’t as easy as yesterday – it’s accompanied by a sharp pain in his chest that has him gasping and his sight blurs for a second. Jongdae’s grip on his shoulder tightens and after a glimpse into his face, brown eyes are full of concern and curled lips tense.

Minseok wants to calm his concern, but his head feels too dizzy to formulate words, so he closes his eyes in hopes to get rid of the whirling sensation.

“Breathe, Minseok. Deep breaths.”

Following Jongdae’s words, he inhales deeply and there’s a fresh wave of the same powdery-peppery scent he smelled earlier. It reminds him of his nightmare? Memory? But it’s also _Jongdae_…

Opening his eyes a bit to test if the world isn’t spinning anymore, he sees how Jongdae has tilted his head to the left again. The younger nibbles on his lower lip, his eyes look watery and with a gulp, he hands Minseok a bowl with water plus the teeth soap. After cleaning his teeth, where Minseok had to lift the bowl instead of leaning forward to finish rinsing his mouth, he gives it back and watches how Jongdae dumps the water into the sink.

When he’s back at Minseok’s side, Jongdae’s voice shakes when he asks:

“Do you think you can eat something?”

“I can try.”

Jongdae hands him a bowl with mash and a spoon, his expression cautious. Minseok balances the bowl in his lap and starts to eat, but after the third spoon his stomach starts to hurt and he has to grit his teeth to not cry out.

“Minseok? Are you okay?”

“It hurts, I can’t-“ he gasps at a strong wave of pain. “I don’t want to eat more.”

Jongdae sends him a tender smile, nods and takes the bowl from him. “Maybe eat some more later?”

But Minseok shakes his head, stomach twisting in pain.

“Okay.” And yet Jongdae puts the bowl on his nightstand and proceeds to eat his own mash.

Minseok looks around to distract himself, but he can’t find anything different than before. The room is still somewhat chaotic and yet it has its own system. Various pieces of pottery are strewn across the room, on shelves and in lines on the floor.

The sound of Jongdae standing up draws his gaze to him, watching how he puts his bowl into the sink and stares outside. Minseok assumes that Jongdae got distracted by something he can’t see from his position on the bed. He’s startled when the man starts to speak.

“The sky is too dark.” Jongdae’s voice is weirdly blank. “I don’t like it.”

He doesn’t say more, still staring outside and it gets too quiet for Minseok’s taste. When it’s silent, he can hear his thumping heartbeat in his ears, overshadowing his thoughts and he can’t ignore his pain any longer.

Minseok gives his best to come up with something to do, to distract himself from the pain. The list in his head isn’t very long. But Jongdae said something about books yesterday – Minseok’s head still feels dizzy and he doesn’t want to worsen it with trying to read a different language. But maybe …

“Jongdae?”

As expected, there wasn’t a reaction. Minseok clears his throat and tries to call louder.

“Jongdae!”

The man flinches and whirls around to look at him with his head tilted again, his eyes wide. Minseok feels guilty when he doesn’t address Jongdae’s distressed state, but asks instead:

“Would you read to me?”

Jongdae’s face morphs into a surprised one – eyes still wide open, eyebrows high and mouth slightly opened. Then, he swallows and nods.

“Eh, if you want.” He walks to the shelf opposite the bed and sits down onto his knees. “What should I read? I have books about pottery, various poems and a fairytale collection.”

“The fairytales, please.”

Jongdae hums and a few seconds later he sits next to Minseok, a book in his lap.

“Do you want a specific tale?”

“No, just choose one.”

“Okay … then Hänsel and Gretel it is.”

Minseok gives an affirmative sound and wiggles a bit to find a more comfortable position. The chest stings at the movement, but it’s manageable. His stomach worries him though, the pain lessened but it still feels like it’s twisting itself.

With a sigh he closes his eyes and listens to Jongdae’s voice, allowing it to drown out his thoughts, the exhaustion and the heaviness - his aching body.

“Once upon a time …”

* * *

When his eyes open, all Minseok can see is a blurry version of Jongdae’s room. Blinking to clear his vision, he realizes that his point of view has changed. He fell asleep leaning against the headboard – now he’s lying down again, maybe Jongdae moved him during his sleep.

Where is Jongdae?

Looking around the room he can’t find the man and with an anxious gaze he tries to see something through the window. But the only noticeable thing are dark clouds – unfortunately he can’t really see much more from his point of view anyway.

Taking a deep breath to not worry too much about Jongdae’s whereabouts and to distract himself from the silence, Minseok creates a list of things he would like to do with Jongdae - if he is lucky enough.

Starting with “walking down the beach and watching Jongdae get excited about pottery”, he makes his way to “nuzzling his nose into Jongdae’s neck for once, not the other way around” and “tracing the red lines”. He starts to collect ideas about how to ease Jongdae into letting him touch more than his wrist – preferably while he’s awake and not sleepily clinging to him.

Minseok doesn’t come up with much, because Jongdae walks through the front door shortly after he started. Realizing his eager thoughts, Minseok’s cheeks redden and he tries to appear unbothered while he greets the man.

“Hey Jongdae.” His voice is raspy, he has to clear his throat and despite his efforts to not overthink he asks, “Where were you?”

Jongdae is already making his way towards him, with a groan he sits down. “My arm hurts.” He whines. “Pulling the wheelbarrow yesterday was too much.”

Minseok suppresses a cooing sound at the cute whining, but Jongdae didn’t answer his question so he sends him a pointed look.

“Oh, eh, I made sure everything is safe and prepared for a st-storm.” Minseok frowns at Jongdae’s stuttering.

“A storm?”

Jongdae hums with an unpleased tone. “I hope it won’t be too strong …”

“You don’t like storms? Aren’t there many here at the sea?” Minseok guesses.

Jongdae’s face turns grim, lips pressed thinly together.

“Too many.”

With a worried look Minseok watches how Jongdae avoids eye-contact and fidgets with his hand. Not knowing what to say, Minseok reaches for it and intertwines their fingers.

Jongdae looks up with a thankful gaze and Minseok can see how the man gives his best to smile but it is more of a grimace. It saddens him to see Jongdae trying to conceal his fear.

“Don’t feel bad for being scared, Jongdae. It means you want to live.”

Jongdae scoffs and entangles his hand from Minseok’s.

Stunned, Minseok can do nothing but watch as the younger walks away with tense shoulders and retrieves several pots and bowls, stacking them on top of the table with more force than necessary. He doesn’t look into Minseok’s direction for one second.

Minseok feels guilty for worsening Jongdae’s mood when he’s obviously unsettled by the weather, yet he wonders why his reaction was so blunt. He follows Jongdae stalking around the room - placing pots and bowls onto the floor, but the repeating turning of his head makes him dizzy. Minseok looks outside the window instead.

The clouds are darker than before, a deep blue – almost black. It wouldn’t be long until it starts to rain.

* * *

And rain it does.

Now Jongdae’s preparations make sense – the roof is leaking and with a surprising accuracy Jongdae placed the pots to collect the raindrops. Said man is washing the dishes right now, but Minseok doesn’t focus on that. He can’t.

Because the sound of rain against the windows and the roof and the dripping water make him feel restless, anxious and his head is dizzy, even though he doesn’t move it. He’s staring at the ceiling, which is luckily not leaking and because Jongdae ignores him since their tense conversation, he has nothing to distract him from the pain.

Creating lists doesn’t help no longer, the same with looking around - the house doesn’t have any distracting things to offer after two days of staring. Humming doesn’t work as good as hearing Jongdae’s voice, but it has to do for now.

After some minutes of humming and staring up, the rain gets worse and suddenly his dizziness increases, creating a nauseating feeling. Minseok’s eyes close and without a warning the noise doesn’t only sound like rain anymore.

There is the crashing of waves, there are men running around – shouting in French about a German ship. When Minseok opens his eyes, he is no longer in Jongdae’s house, because the ceiling is lower and instead of a bed he’s in a bunk. But there is someone next to him, groaning about their interrupted beauty sleep and Minseok frowns confused.

Suddenly there’s the alarming sound of a bell and the man next to him jumps out of the bunk, big green eyes sending him a scared look. He wants to give comfort but jumps up as well and together they run outside.

And they are met with chaos.

There are men running around, while hard raindrops drench their uniforms and Minseok shudders at the piercing cold.

“There! An ironclad!”

Walking forward he tries to spot something through his rain blurred vision. But all he can see is the dark raging sea – and then there’s a loud booming clash.

“What was that?”

Minseok swirls around to look at his companion, but he’s nowhere to be seen and panic flows through his veins. The salty air is heavy on his tongue.

“We’re under fire!”

Pushing his way through the men, Minseok turns his head frantically to find the man with the green eyes. He can’t find him.

A sudden need to reach the main mast forms in his mind, so he tries to find a way through the chaos. There are shoulders slamming into his own, causing a stinging pain and he gets pushed to the side.

“Ready the cannons and tanks!”

Minseok turns around and wants to push his way further to his destination, but the crowd is unforgiving. He gets shoved around and finds himself at the rails, where the rain and splashes of waves combine into a dangerous distraction.

The second he rubs water out of his eyes, a man collides with him and Minseok loses his footing. His feet slip and when his hand tries to grab for something to hold on to – another body slams into him, shoving him and Minseok falls over the railing.

Nothing stops, no slow motion happens – his body simply falls into the sea, eyes wide open and hands outstretched.

Pain explodes in his feet and his right side, but Minseok doesn’t get a second to cope with it when the shock of the cold water hits him.

His eyes are still wide open, the cold bites his skin and on instinct he tries to breathe – but there’s water instead of air and he panics. Thrashing his numb limbs, Minseok tries to get upwards. To the sky. To the air. To freedom. To _life_.

But he can’t breathe and everything is moving around him. It’s dark, he can’t hear and he is so, so cold. His limbs scream in pain when he moves them, but then – he breaks through the surface.

Cold wind and rain greet him and he desperately inhales new air, but there are waves crushing over him and he’s underwater again. Minseok can’t breathe and it gets harder to move. Everything is whirling and he can’t see anything clearly in the darkness.

The sea spits him out and he gets to breathe, but there’s water everywhere. His limbs are too numb to move by now, the cold creeping through his veins. He tries to see something, the boat, the sky – _anything_.

But he gets crushed by a wave again and he can’t breathe and everything is moving except him.

“Minseok!”

He can’t see and he is so, so cold. Minseok feels how he gets whirled around by the unforgiving waves, their pressure overwhelming his senses.

“Minseok! Wake up!”

His limbs tingle, but simultaneously he can’t feel his toes anymore. Somehow, Minseok can muster the strength to try to grip on to something, to _survive_.

“Ahh! Pl-please, Minseok!”

Behind his eyelids everything gets darker, he feels extremely cold and his lungs scream in pain. His muscles cramp and Minseok stops feeling anything. There’s only darkness.

“Min-Minseok, please, you’re hurting me!”

Minseok’s eyes snap open, he can see a ceiling and his lungs try to inhale too much air, but at the same time it feels like there’s nothing to take in. His body erupts in pain and Minseok can’t form any coherent thoughts for a few moments.

He doesn’t know where he is - his eyes search with panic for any indication of a thread. Shelves, a table and chair, a stranger, a stove, a window – a _stranger_?

His eyes flit back to the person next to him and his breath quickens further - he’s hyperventilating. Minseok’s vision starts to get blurry, but he can see the man staring at him with watery eyes and an expression of pain.

“Pl-please, Minseok.” The man whimpers. “Let me go!”

Minseok doesn’t know what he means - that is until the man moves one of his arms and he realizes that he’s grasping it with a tight grip, his knuckles white and left arm trembling. His fingers hurt when he withdraws them promptly and he crosses his arms as a metaphorical shield, even though he’s panting in pain.

The stranger whimpers at the movement and takes a step back, straight brows furrowed and brown eyes full of caution. His lips are tense, but open due to him exhaling strained. It sounds almost like his breathing when he sleeps.

But why does Minseok know that? He frowns. Wait, he also knows that he prefers the eyes squinted in laughter and that he sometimes wonders if the eyebrows will ever not be furrowed.

“Qui-” Minseok sounds strangled, his breathing still hasn’t calmed down.

The brown eyes widen.

“I’m Jongdae.” The voice sounds heartbroken. “Can’t you remember?”

Jongdae?

Jongdae! Dae, flowery-peppery smelling, big-hearted, heavenly singing and cute blushing Jongdae. _Jongdae_, the man who saved him. How could he forget?

The man’s brown eyes look wary and Minseok has still trouble breathing, but he wants to reassure him and not scare him away.

“Jongdae!” he pants. “’m sorry!” His eyes wander to Jongdae’s arm and he can see how the skin slowly turns red where his fingers gripped too strong.

“I’m so sorry! Je ne- I didn’t realize … I wasn’t-” he’s searching for words to explain what he just experienced. “I think, I think I relived a memory.”

Jongdae’s eyes are still cautious when he looks at him, but at least he comes closer with his hurt arm pressed to his chest and sits down.

“Breathe Minseok.” Jongdae’s voice is quiet and shakes a bit.

Minseok follows his words and gives his best to take deep breaths. His lungs sting and his stomach is throbbing in pain, but after a few moments he can bring his breathing under control. Then he swallows audibly, Minseok looks at Jongdae with an open expression in hope to defuse the tense air between them. Jongdae seems willed to listen, he tilts his head and meets his eye-contact - but his face stays guarded.

“What did you see … eh, remember?”

“There was a lot … I was on a boat and I woke up next to a man.” Jongdae’s eyebrows raise. “Then we were on the ship’s deck, it was a complete chaos. Men ran around, shouting about a German ship.”

He hears a sharp inhale from Jongdae. “Was there exchange of fire?”

“I don’t know … I can’t really remember. It was so hectic, there was rain and … and I got pushed around, I never found …” Minseok has to take a deep breath. “I got pushed to the railing and slipped on the wet floor.”

A gasp can be heard and Jongdae’s eyes look worried now.

“And then some-someone shoved me over the railing.” Minseok has to swallow and feels a shiver run down his spine when he thinks about what happened next.

“I fell into the sea and it was so cold, Jongdae.” Minseok’s mouth is dry and he breaks the eye-contact. “The water …” he gulps and his body throbs as if it remembers the water pressure and the waves playing with his body.

“Oh, Minseok!“ Jongdae sounds distraught. “You don’t have to say more. I can imagine…” he swallows audibly. “I can imagine how it must feel to be shoved by your own men.”

“Je-, no, I can’t think about this right now.” His eyes sting. “All I feel is the water surrounding me, it was so cold …” He pulls the blanket closer. “The waves threw me around as if I was nothing, I-I feel so-“

“No more, Minseok. “

“The water was so cold …”

“Minseok! Don’t lose yourself to the memory, please.” Jongdae looks at him with pleading eyes. “You’re here now and safe, that’s what counts right?”

Minseok answers with a weak hum and tries to think about something different than waves. His mind shows him green eyes with a scared look and the urge to comfort him.

“The man.” He blurts out. “The man in my bunk. I think we were friends. I searched for him in my memory, but I didn’t find him.” A sad smile finds its way to his lips. He doesn’t know what causes the sadness exactly – That he doesn’t remember who the man is? Losing the man out of sight during his memory? Not being able to find him again? But he doesn’t feel the urge to search for him now …

“Oh.” Jongdae fidgets with his hand. “I’m sorry that you … didn’t …” he trails off.

Minseok can hear that Jongdae is uncomfortable with the topic. Maybe he thinks that Minseok would prefer to be with the man of his memory? Even though his arms are trembling, he takes Jongdae’s hand in his and smiles at the man. Remembering the man’s words, he says,

“Yes, I wonder who that man is to me. But as you said – I’m here now. Not there. I’m not alone now, that’s what is important to me.” He squeezes. “Thank you for saving me, Jongdae.”

“N-no problem. I’m happy that you’re safe and not … out there.” The man’s cheeks start to glow. “I’m glad not to be alone anymore, too.”

Pleased about his words, Minseok moves his thumb to caress Jongdae’s knuckles, which causes Jongdae to stare at their linked hands. Minseok is reminded of the similar situation this morning and that he hasn’t apologized yet.

“Jongdae, about this morning …” The man looks up with in confusion furrowed eyebrows. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I thought … I thought you’d like it and I have to apologize for overstepping your boundaries.”

“Oh …” Jongdae averts his eyes. “Ehm … it’s okay. I didn’t really mind?”

Minseok raises his eyebrow at his uncertain tone.

“I mean … I-I liked it.” His cheeks get a sweet red colour. “I just … I was overwhelmed. I’m not used to such … t-touches.”

“Then this is okay?” Ignoring his hurting arm, Minseok applies more pressure in his caress for emphasis.

Jongdae’s answering hum is similar to a squeal and Minseok chuckles amused, even though his lungs protest with a stinging pain. He can see how Jongdae’s expression changes into a sad one, his eyebrows furrow once more and the curled corners of his mouth turn down.

“I also have to apologize.” Jongdae bites his lower lip. “I shouldn’t have turned away and ignore you.”

“That’s okay, you didn’t know what to do.” Minseok stops his caress to squeeze anew. “I’m not mad at you.”

“You should.” Jongdae looks up and his eyes look watery. “I should have been at your side, Minseok. I was- I was so scared when I saw how you thrashed around. You-“ He gulps. “You sounded so broken and-and in pain.”

“Hey,” Minseok keeps his voice soft. “I’m okay now.” His body screams in pain at the obvious lie.

Jongdae shakes his head.

“No, you’re not. You’re clearly suffering and I can’t stand it.” Now Jongdae is the one squeezing their fingers tighter. “Please let me go, Minseok. I want to get you something against the pain.”

“But-“

“Please, Minseok.” Jongdae sounds close to tears. “I can’t leave until tomorrow anyway. The rain has to let up. But-but please let me do this for you.”

Minseok sighs. He doesn’t want Jongdae to go.

He isn’t sure if he can endure the pain when he’s on his own for so long - without Jongdae as a distraction. But if he allows him to go to the village, the thought of getting medicine may aid him in withstanding the pain. Unless…

“We’ll see tomorrow okay?”

“Okay, thank you.” Jongdae inhales deeply. “Now, do you want to try and eat something again? I can reheat the mash if you want.”

But Minseok shakes his head.

“My stomach already hurts. I don’t think I can eat anything today.”

Jongdae looks unhappy, but nods and lets go of his hand to bring the bowl which was placed on the nightstand all this time to the sink. Minseok misses the warmth and feels how the exhaustion starts to take over.

When Jongdae returns, Minseok asks him, “Can you read to me again?”

The younger smiles and retrieves the same book as before.

“I didn’t finish the tale. Do you want me to continue it?”

Minseok could care less about the tale, he’s only interested to keep Jongdae talking to concentrate on his voice and ignore his pain. But Jongdae appears to genuinely like fairytales, Minseok doesn’t want to offend him.

“Continue it, please.”

Jongdae hums with a pleased tone and starts reading.

Minseok doesn’t know the storyline and allows his brain to relax from translating. He focuses on Jongdae’s voice instead, how it’s soothing his nerves and overpowers his negative thoughts about the pain.

The warm voice talks in a low tone with a steady flow until Minseok is lulled to sleep.

* * *

Minseok is aware that he’s still half-asleep, eyes only opened slightly and he’s breathing heavy. His stomach and ribs are throbbing and his leg seems to think that it wasn’t painful enough – it’s sending hot flushes up his body which are followed by a nauseating feeling.

Out of reflex he searches for Jongdae and finds him pacing around the room. He looks distressed, steps hurried and shoulders tense. The right arm is massaging his temple and Jongdae is staring at his moving feet, mumbling things Minseok can’t hear.

Before he can call the man’s name, a hot flush overwhelms him and he has to shut his eyes and grit his teeth. He’s vaguely aware that he’s sweating, but Minseok can’t open his eyes again and loses consciousness.

* * *

The next time Minseok comes to it, he’s uncomfortably hot and the flushes didn’t stop, sweating in pain. His mind is dizzy, the limbs heavy and his stomach feels like it’s burning from inside. Minseok’s right arm tingles as if the blood circulation was interrupted in his sleep.

That reminds him of his first time waking up in Jongdae’s presence. Was it already night that the man clings to him again? But Jongdae would have woken him for dinner, wouldn’t he? He appeared determined to make Minseok eat something.

Opening his eyes, he is met with darkness. Without turning his head too much to avoid the light-headedness, he looks around as good as possible. He can make out some shelves and the flat surface of the table - but he can’t see Jongdae, so he looks to his right.

Good thing is, he found him.

Bad thing is, Jongdae is hugging his arm in an uncomfortably tight embrace and his cheek is pressed against his shoulder. Minseok’s heart skips a beat in worry when he gets a glimpse of his expression – Jongdae’s face is frozen in panic. Eyes wide open, the white looking scary in the darkness – his face is pale as well. The eyebrows are raised but tense and the mouth is slightly opened. He’s panting.

“Dae?” Minseok’s voice cracks while he tries to keep it quiet. “Jongdae?”

But he doesn’t get a reaction, Jongdae is as still as a statue and keeps staring forward. Minseok follows his line of vision and when he sees the black storm clouds outside the window, he’s reminded of their conversation earlier and starts to understand. Jongdae’s reaction was so blunt because he’s not scared of storms – he’s _terrified_.

The clash of thunder can be heard, in an instant the grip on his arm tightens and Jongdae whimpers. Minseok’s heart hurts seeing him so vulnerable, the need to protect him pushing away the sensation of his aching body. Hoping to evoke a reaction, he moves his shoulder slowly to break Jongdae’s stare outside.

It doesn’t really work like he expected - instead of staring at something different, Jongdae shift his head with a whine and now his forehead and nose poke into Minseok’s shoulder. Another whimper can be heard when a thunder rumbles through the air once again.

Minseok doesn’t know what would help the man the best, but he’s worried about not getting an articulated vocal reaction. Is Jongdae already too far gone in his panicked mind?

“Jongdae?”

No reaction.

Minseok turns his head, careful to not aggravate his dizziness and blows softly onto Jongdae’s hair, revealing the pale forehead underneath.

“Hey, Dae.”

A whimper.

“Jongdae.”

A shaky inhale and a whispered “Min-Minseok.” follows.

He smiles softly, glad about Jongdae recognizing him and voicing words. Encouraged to continue, Minseok tries to soothe the panicked man with his voice.

“You are safe, Jongdae.”

The younger pushes his forehead stronger against Minseok’s shoulder with a strangled whine.

“I’m here, you’re not alone.”

Jongdae doesn’t react this time. Frowning, Minseok wants to try it with another physical stimulation. He checks if his left arm hurts too much to move, it doesn’t – but the second he reaches across his chest and stretches its skin, Minseok has to gasp in pain.

Jongdae lets out a frightened sound.

After a few controlled deep breaths, Minseok tries his luck with his other forearm and lifts it until his palm touches frizzy hair. Jongdae flinches and suddenly there’s a wetness at his shoulder. Minseok’s hand freezes immediately and his eyes widen, he didn’t want to scare him further.

“Shh, Jongdae, it’s me, it’s Minseok.”

“Min…” Jongdae hiccups. “Minseok!” There is the pressure of a pointy nose being nudged into his shirt combined with big puffs of air. “It hurts!”

Worried, Minseok pulls his eyebrows together. “What hurts?”

“Too much.” A sob. “My arm, my head …”

Jongdae’s wretched voice hurts his heart. Minseok doesn’t know what happened to cause him pain, with horror he realizes that Jongdae could have been outside while he was asleep and could be injured.

“Jongdae, why does it hurt? Are you wounded?”

The forehead moves from left to right on repeat against his shoulder with a followed whine that sounds like a “No.”

Relief floods Minseok’s mind and he can concentrate again on calming Jongdae. Touches seem to reach his terrified mind, so Minseok starts to move his fingers over the hair in circular motions. It is dry and frizzy under his fingertips, but he doesn’t mind. What worries him though is that Jongdae doesn’t show a reaction to his touch - which is why Minseok applies more pressure.

This elicits a shudder and a low whine.

“Everything will be fine.” Minseok has to talk louder to overpower the next thunder. “You’re safe, Jongdae. I’m here, you’re not alone.”

But Jongdae doesn’t stop whimpering and Minseok can feel how his shirt gets wetter, a contrast to his heated skin. He keeps drawing circles in the sobbing man’s hair and talks over the thunder, which doesn’t sound like it’s going to end soon. His jaw clenches in worry.

After the next thunder, Jongdae stops whimpering and stays quiet. The silence is a scary difference and Minseok’s worry increases.

“Dae?”

“I-I hate it.” Jongdae sounds weak. “Stop it!”

Minseok frowns, he’s not sure if Jongdae expects an answer from him or if he’s talking to himself. But he’s glad that Jongdae says something at all and waits if he continues. He does.

“I hate this! My arm, my ear, my head – can’t you just-“ A hiccup. “Just stay useless, why be so dumb each time …”

“Dae?” Minseok’s voice is careful. “What are you talking about?”

“My dumb body!” Now Jongdae sounds angry. “I’m okay with my past, with how I am now. But my body-“ A shaky inhale. “My dumb body remembers the pain each time there’s a storm and I can’t- I can’t stand it!”

Minseok is surprised to hear Jongdae ramble so much and almost forgets to keep his fingers moving. He’s curious how much the man is willing to reveal about his past.

“It’s like my arm decides to become alive again just to spite me.” Jongdae scoffs, but it sounds weak. “Hanging around useless and numb but hurting at the worst time. The same with my ear!”

This confuses Minseok – he didn’t notice anything wrong with Jongdae’s ears. His curiousness wins over his carefulness.

“What’s with your ear?”

That causes the biggest reaction so far – Jongdae moves his head to look at him. His face is still pale, the nose is runny, and his eyes are wide open, watery and red.

“You didn’t notice?”

Minseok shakes his head slowly to avoid dizziness.

“My left ear is deaf.”

He didn’t expect that and his eyes widen. When he thinks back, he doesn’t really remember something which would point to it. Jongdae didn’t show problems of hearing him, did he?

“No Dae, I truly didn’t know.”

He did show signs, though. The times he didn’t react to Minseok’s words when he got lost in thought and it would make sense with his balance problems. Also, the times Jongdae tilted his head during conversations – did he do it to hear his voice better?

“Oh …” Jongdae’s anger seems to have disappeared completely now. He puts his chin atop Minseok’s shoulder and looks away. Minseok suppresses a wince at the pain of the chin poking his sore body.

The following silence is uncomfortable. Minseok doesn’t know what to say, he fears that Jongdae will notice the thunder again if he’s not distracted anymore. Just the thought at his vulnerable state hurts his heart. But how could he-

“Minseok?”

He hums in surprise.

“Thank you.”

Minseok smiles, glad that Jongdae appears to have calmed down now. Said man looks at him for a moment, before he moves his head to press his cheek against his shoulder like earlier. He shudders when a thunder rumbles through the air.

“Min-Minseok?”

Minseok chuckles at the repetition of his name, his lungs stinging in protest.

“Yes?”

“Could you … would you sing for me?”

His eyebrows raise in surprise. But the question makes sense – he asked Jongdae to sing for him to distract him from his pain, it’s logical that the man does the same now.

With a smile he gives an affirmative sound and moves his head a bit to find a more comfortable position. Then he starts to hum, because he’s not sure if he can keep up singing for longer than five minutes.

Each time when there’s the rolling of a thunder, he tries to hum louder and Jongdae’s reaction doesn’t get worse than a shudder or a whimper at an especially loud clap outside. It feels like ages until the thunder lessens and leaves behind the pitter patter of rain as the only sound to be heard.

Eventually, Jongdae doesn’t react to the noise anymore and Minseok guesses that he fell asleep. Slowly withdrawing his fingers, he lies his arm back down and his muscles sting after being hold into one position for so long.

His mind wants to follow Jongdae into the dreamland, but his body hinders him. Being too tired to hum, the silence is back and so is his pain. Minseok is feeling warm due to Jongdae’s closeness anyway, the hot flushes from his leg let him sweat in an uncomfortable heat. His stomach is aflame, and his rips start to throb again.

Minseok tries to distract himself with concentrating on Jongdae’s presence to better ignore the increasing pain. But the moment he starts to count the puffs leaving the man’s lips, they stop.

“Minseok?” A whisper.

He responds with a deep rumble in his dry throat.

“Thank you. For everything.” Minseok hears how Jongdae exhales a shaky breath. “And thank you for not asking questions. About … well.”

Minseok feels how a finger starts to draw circles on his arm.

“The first thing people do is stare. And then the questions follow. It’s not that I can’t understand them, but … I’m more than my limitation and being reduced to it … it hurts.”

Minseok can’t imagine how hard it must be for Jongdae. His admiration for the man gets stronger with each personal detail he discovers.

“I have come to terms with how I am. My grandmother …”

Jongdae doesn’t continue and pushes his cheek harder against his skin. Minseok stays silent and waits for Jongdae to formulate his words.

“No, I-I better start from the beginning.” He takes a deep breath. “I was sixteen, but … but it happened in the summer, so it was a few months before I turned seventeen. My father and I were out with the fishing cutter … He’s a fisherman like your father, Minseok.”

Minseok hums to show he’s listening. Jongdae slides his fingers down to his hand and intertwines their fingers before he speaks again.

“We didn’t pay attention to the weather and … and noticed the storm too late. My father was at the helm, so I was the one fixating everything outside. Then … there, there was-“ Jongdae nuzzles his nose into the shirt and takes a shaky inhale.

Minseok wants to take him into his arms and protect him from the world, but he’s afraid that if he moves too much Jongdae would lose his courage to continue. He has to make do with squeezing his hand instead - Jongdae squeezes back.

“There was a typical summer st-storm. A thunderstorm. With-with lightning and thunder.” Jongdae starts to cry. “Did-did you ever see a lightning strike the sea, Minseok?”

He responds with two low hums and a squeeze, to show that he hasn’t experienced it before. But he imagines it to be beautiful - terrifyingly beautiful.

“I did … and it’s so … otherworldly I can’t describe it with words.” Jongdae stops and now he almost sobs. Minseok keeps squeezing and waits for him to calm down enough to talk again.

“A-a lightning hit our flag post and-and … it sprung over to-to” A hiccup interrupts his words. “To me.”

Shocked, Minseok’s eyes snap open and he looks at Jongdae’s head. Sobs come from him and the shirt gets drenched in tears again. His heart screams in empathy.

“Oh, Dae…” Minseok is close to tears himself. “Oh, mon Dae.”

“Min-Minseok, it hurt so much.” Jongdae’s voice is muffled. “I-I couldn’t move. All I did was stare up at-at the storm and-and … my ears … I couldn’t hear and everything hurt.”

Minseok feels awful – he can’t imagine how painful it must have been. He wants to comfort Jongdae, to ease his pain - but he doesn’t know how. Squeezing his hand just doesn’t feel enough.

“I don’t remember anything after staring into the storm. My father had to drag me into the cabin and he said that-that I looked dead.” He hiccups. “But I am alive. I survived. And I am thankful for that.”

“Jongdae, I-I can’t express how … I don’t know what to say. You’re so, so strong, Je ne-” Minseok has to clear his throat. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be to ...” _live_.

A hiccup follows that sounds like a laugh.

“It’s enough that you’re here and believe in me. That’s already more than my family did.”

Minseok remembers Jongdae’s words – they didn’t want him. See him as worthless and threw him away. He swallows heavily.

“My family … they thought I’d be back to normal after some months. But obviously I wasn’t.” An angry scoff. “My parents tried to marry me off, after they came to the conclusion that I’m not even good enough to watch my siblings. But nobody wanted me and I’m glad for that.”

A confused sound leaves Minseok’s mouth.

“Yeah, you probably think of me as mad.” Jongdae chuckles. “Happy about leaving my family behind … but I am. My parents sent me here to my grandmother and she was always a bit different. But she accepted me like I am.”

Minseok smiles at Jongdae’s fond tone when he mentioned his grandmother.

“She sounds nice.”

Jongdae laughs softly. “She was a stubborn old woman, but I am so grateful for her help. Somehow her strength rubbed off on to me and she helped me believe in myself. My parents think of me as useless, but I …”

“You’re not useless, Jongdae.” Minseok interrupts and squeezes their hands - he gets one back once more.

“I know. Thank you …” Jongdae moves his cheek a bit closer. “My grandmother taught me how to do pottery and it somehow gave me something to cherish about me.”

“Is it strange that I am proud of you to be so positive?”

Jongdae lets out an embarrassed whine and tries to hide his face in Minseok’s shirt, but he can make out a muffled _thank you_.

Minseok continues. “I would want to forget the … the incident. To erase it and turn back time. Really, I admire you Jongdae.”

“Aah, stop it, Minseok!” Jongdae’s laugh against his shirt sounds heavenly to Minseok after the scared sobs just moments ago. “You’re making me blush with all your nice words.”

Minseok grins. As if Jongdae didn’t blush all the time anyway.

“But I like it when you blush.”

He gets another whine as answer and Jongdae’s face being pushed harder against his shirt. There’s probably an indent of his features already, at the thought Minseok chuckles and is all too happy to ignore the protest of his lungs.

Minseok’s chuckle turns into a sigh. His thoughts wander back to the incident. During his time fishing with his father, he has never seen a thunderstorm on the sea. It’s not like he hasn’t experienced a storm before – but they were wise enough to already be on their way home the time clouds started to rumble.

He can’t imagine the pain Jongdae must have gone through. How his body endured the lightning is a mystery to him. Now thinking about it … according to Jongdae’s words his condition stems entirely from the lightning strike – that means the red lines are the mark of lightning, right?

Minseok gets a silly idea.

“Jongdae?” His whisper sounds more like a rasp after his chuckling earlier.

“Hmm?”

“Are your … eh …” but Minseok loses his courage and asks something else instead. “Do you still hurt?”

“No …” Jongdae’s voice is muffled. “I’m feeling better now.”

Glad to hear that, Minseok hums with a happy tone.

“Oh … or did you mean in general? Then yes, ‘cause I’ve got a really mean headache each morning and sometimes my ears hurt.”

“Your arm doesn’t?”

“Well, only during storms. I don’t feel anything with it otherwise.”

Jongdae seems willing to talk about his arm, which gives Minseok’s courage a push and he asks his initial question:

“Are your red lines charged with lightning?”

Jongdae moves his head to look at him with a baffled expression, eyebrows furrowed as ever, and curled lips pulled into an amused line.

“Are you serious?” he laughs. “The one inappropriate question you ask and it’s something like this? You’re funny, Minseok.”

Is Minseok seeing things or is Jongdae actually giggling? – His heart jumps in joy for a second and then in fear, because Jongdae lets go of his hand to sit up.

“Sorry, I didn-“

“Don’t worry, Minseok. I’m not mad.” He’s still giggling. “Do you want to look for yourself?”

Stunned, Minseok watches how Jongdae grips his numb arm, positions it on his own lap and pulls the sleeve up. He struggles a bit to fixate it with a button located at the upper part of the sleeve, biting on his lower lip until he gets it. Then he looks shy at Minseok, intertwines their fingers and guides their hands to the wrist of his numb hand.

Minseok doesn’t dare to move, too dumbfounded by Jongdae’s openness and initiated intimacy.

Brown eyes look at him. “No need to be shocked.” Another giggle. “Seriously, Minseok. It doesn’t hurt, so do your … your thing with your fingers. I know you want to t-touch it.” His stutter betrays his bold façade. _Cute_.

Directing his eyes to Jongdae’s arm, Minseok caresses the skin with careful strokes. His eyes widen in wonder when fingertips skip upon raised skin. Minseok starts to draw circles over them, fascinated by the feeling of the raised lines against his skin.

He starts to follow the lines upwards, ignoring how heavy his own arm feels. But before Minseok skids higher than the wrist - he sends Jongdae a questioning look. Curled lips smile at him and Jongdae gives a shy nod, nothing of his boldness left to voice his permission.

Minseok’s index finger traces the red lines, swirling around on otherwise unblemished skin. They look like red outlines of an artists’ sketch of flowers or tree branches, trailing from the wrist to the crook of the arm and leading around the elbow.

“My grandmother always said they look like flowers.” Jongdae’s voice is almost a whisper. “But I think they are more like tree branches.”

“A lightning tree.”

Minseok didn’t mean to blurt that out, but it creates a big smile on Jongdae’s face – the one where eyes turn into crescents and that lets his heart beat faster.

His fingers are still pressing softly into the skin at Jongdae’s elbow and he starts to make his way down again, because he can’t reach higher without sitting up as well. But Minseok is not sure if he’s able to endure the pain of that.

Careful to not scratch Jongdae, he traces raised skin with a fingernail and when he reaches the wrist – he tickles the slender curve of it. Jongdae’s giggles let his heart jump and Minseok looks at him with fond eyes.

“It’s beautiful.”

Minseok lowers his fingers further and intertwines them with Jongdae’s.

“Thank you.” Jongdae blushes and averts his eyes shyly. “Also … thank you for not reducing me. And seeing my arm as a-a part of me … most people call it an abomination. Or me …”

“Let them talk. You are no abomination, Jongdae. You are a very strong man.”

Jongdae lets out a cute whine. “Minseok~!”

He smirks, sensing the chance to make the younger blush again. “A man which I admire.”

“No~, stop.”

“A man which I am very thankful to for saving me.”

He wants to say so much more – how truly beautiful Jongdae is. But said man lifts his gaze, meeting Minseok’s eyes and he discovers a warmth he hasn’t seen before.

“Finding you was one of the best things happening to me.”

Stunned, Minseok’s eyes widen and his heart skips a beat. He doesn’t know what to say - how does one respond to such a statement? His mouth is open, but nothing comes out.

Jongdae smiles at him. “You don’t need to say something, Minseok.” He squeezes their fingers. “Sometimes words aren’t needed, right?”

Minseok squeezes back and nods. They smile at each other for a few moments – until their eye-contact is interrupted by Jongdae yawning.

“Well, look who’s tired.” Minseok grins but has to suppress a yawn himself.

Jongdae chuckles, lets go of his hand and settles down next to Minseok.

“Ehm, eh … is it okay to cu-cuddle?”

Minseok hums amused. Jongdae will cling to him anyway, but he’s happy that the man voices his apparently unconscious need to be close to someone. Minseok hopes he’s the true reason for it though.

With a blush, Jongdae skids closer and lies his cheek onto Minseok’s shoulder like earlier. Minseok sighs in content when their fingers intertwine once again.

* * *

After a few silent moments, Jongdae inhales loudly and moves his head to look at Minseok, his cheek still pressed against Minseok’s shoulder.

“You know … maybe we would have met anyway. If I didn’t … if the incident didn’t happen, I would have been drafted some months later. Maybe we would have met on the sea, as enemies.”

With a soft smile Jongdae adds, “I prefer it this way.”

Minseok’s lips stretch into a big smile, showing his gum. Brown eyes widen and Jongdae’s still blushed cheeks redden further.

“Yeah,” His thumb starts to caress Jongdae’s palm. “I prefer that as well.”

Both smile at each other for a while, until Jongdae moves his head back and nuzzles his nose into Minseok’s shirt.

“Jongdae?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you sing for me again?”

“Of course.”

Minseok moves his head to the right and with his nose in Jongdae’s hair, he inhales the man’s soothing scent – more peppery than flowery this time. With a smile he listens to Jongdae’s voice until his mind is too tired to hear a sound.


	6. Interlude

Something unfamiliar rips Jongdae out of a dream – that he wakes up because of something different than his headache is strange in itself.

It seems that his brain doesn’t like to be disturbed in its dreamspace, because his headache is stronger than usual. It lets Jongdae see stars behind closed eyelids and he has to clench his jaw to endure the pain.

After moments of involuntary stargazing and with his jaw muscles hurting, Jongdae gains enough consciousness to try to figure out what disrupted his slumber.

The feelings in his limbs return at first like usual. His legs are pulled up and his arm lies outstretched down to his thigh – pressed together by his body and something warm. Jongdae’s chin is touching a fabric and while his mind isn’t awake enough yet to identify who he’s sharing a bed with – his heart knows it the second he gets a whiff of a salty, cottony scent.

_Minseok_!

Warmth fills his chest and his pain blurred mind, but it freezes when he starts to listen to the sounds around him.

Pained groans fill the air, interrupted by occasional coughs and whimpers. They sound wretched and strained. If Jongdae hears correctly, there are even some words leaving Minseok’s lips – but his voice is hoarse and he doesn’t understand anything.

The next groan sounds conspicuously like a sob.

The sound lets his heart ache, the want to soothe Minseok and relieve him of the pain increases every second. Jongdae tries to open his eyes, but they won’t move – still too heavy with sleep. His mind doesn’t let go of his pain, apparently content with torturing Jongdae to endure his headache and throbbing ear.

His heart feels like it’s ripped in two – the devastation of having to listen to Minseok’s cries. The anger at his pain disabling Jongdae to wake up, at his own body refusing to work.

With silent tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, Jongdae’s pain takes over again and tints everything black.


	7. 29th August 1870

His ear throbs when Jongdae regains consciousness, but he can identify the loud groaning of Minseok the second he hears it. An awful feeling clasps his heart, he wants to help the man with his pain – but his body is still coping with its own.

When the pain recedes enough for him to realize that the shirt his face is pushed against is drenched, Jongdae is reminded of the disastrous night. Minseok woke him up several times, crying out in pain and blabbering something – probably in French. His body started sweating at some point and his skin is flushed since then.

It hurts Jongdae’s heart to look back at the times he slurred the man’s name and didn’t get a response. That he was unable to get up and shake the man awake, his own aching body disabling him to move. The terrifying moments between having to listen to Minseok’s cries and the slow decreasing of groans into whimpers.

Jongdae didn’t feel that much self-hatred and helplessness in a long time.

Just thinking about it brings him to tears, running down his cheeks in silence while his wheezing joins the pained groans in the air. He doesn’t want to imagine how much Minseok is aching and how it will increase with time.

How long will this go on? He can’t stand seeing Minseok like this. Even if the man doesn’t want him to, Jongdae decides at that moment that he’ll go to the village today. For their sake’s, Minseok’s and himself’s.

But to do that, he has to wait for his body to get used to his headache - and listen to Minseok’s groans. Jongdae winces every time they get louder, biting his lip to not let out a sound in empathy.

It takes a while until he can open his eyes and the world doesn’t spin. His nose is poking into Minseok’s arm and as he noticed earlier, the shirt is drenched in sweat. The sweaty smell mixes together with a more cottony scent and something different, something _Minseok_.

Jongdae inhales a last deep breath and moves himself into an upright position. He sends Minseok a long gaze – seeing flushed cheeks and lips opened to let out big pants of air. With a heavy heart, Jongdae gets up slowly and retrieves new clothes as well as a simple shirt. Laying the clothes to the side, he goes to the sink to fill a bowl with water and soaks the shirt in it.

Walking back to Minseok, he wrings it and starts wiping down the man’s neck, glad to finally help him somehow. When the wet shirt meets skin, Minseok lets out a whimper and Jongdae starts to sing, in hopes to distract him from the pain. He feels a bit bad for using a shirt to wipe the sweat, but he already used all his cloths as makeshift bandages.

When Jongdae’s finished with the shoulders, he wets the shirt and wrings it out again. With careful movements he presses the fabric against Minseok’s cheeks and temples. The melody he’s humming turns even softer while he stares at feline eyes, red lips and blushed cheeks. If Jongdae remembers correctly, he hasn’t seen the man blush before. If it were different circumstances, he’d say it looks cute.

Without leaving Minseok’s face out of sight, he wets the shirt again and puts it on the man’s forehead. Because of its size, Minseok’s dark hair gets covered as well and it looks strangely as if he grayed during his stay at Jongdae’s. The man is older than him so it’s even funnier - he chuckles a bit at the thought.

Minseok groans louder now and Jongdae starts to sing once more, weaving together comforting words and soothing melodies. With a fond gaze and gentle fingers, he caresses a flushed cheek. Oh, how he wishes to just erase Minseok’s pain.

_Right_, he wanted to go to the village. To the doctor. If he even listens to him.

With a heavy sigh, Jongdae leaves Minseok’s side and starts the fire. Because he didn’t eat dinner yesterday, there’s still some mash left. Placing the pot on the hook, he gets himself new clothes and exits the hut.

Paying attention to the muddy floor to avoid stumbling, he gives his best to not get distracted by the puddles spread around - or the grey sky reflected on their shiny flat surface. Jongdae reaches the outhouse and after using it, changing his clothes and cleaning his teeth, he makes his way back to the hut.

Groans of pain greet him and with a tense expression, he prepares the mash. Out of instinct, he grabs two bowls – but then he remembers that Minseok couldn’t even eat yesterday. Why would he be able to eat now? Jongdae puts one bowl back with a sad sigh.

With a meal for himself, he goes to sit down next to Minseok and places his bowls onto the nightstand. Jongdae takes the shirt from the groaning man to wet it again. A whimper leaves Minseok’s lips when the cool fabric touches his forehead. His heart cries in empathy and once again he starts to hum a melody to distract them both.

His tune gets interrupted only by his prayer and when he swallows. It’s weird to hum while eating, but he already noticed that Minseok’s groans are quieter when he hears his voice – so Jongdae keeps on assuring him he’s there. One more reason why his heart screams at the man’s pain.

After he finished his mash and put the bowl into the sink, Jongdae goes to get his purse – wincing when he sees how little money is left. If he’s lucky enough to get the doctor to give him something against the pain, will it be enough to pay for it?

Struggling to stay positive, Jongdae walks back to Minseok to wake the man before he leaves. With a heavy heart and after a deep breath, he shakes Minseok’s shoulder and calls his name. As expected, there wasn’t a response - the groans became louder instead.

Jongdae feels awful to wake the man from his sleep, but he doesn’t want to leave without informing him about his absence. Without talking to him.

“Minseok, please wake up!” He shakes his shoulder again with more force.

A loud groan follows, but Jongdae isn’t sure if it’s an answer or because of the strong movement. He doesn’t shake him again, but rubs his thumb over a flushed collarbone.

“Minseok? Are you awake?”

Another groan, but it sounds different – higher and more like a whine.

“Minseok?”

No groan can be heard, but Minseok coughs instead. It doesn’t sound any better.

“Min-Minseok?”

Again, a cough. But Minseok’s lips move after it and with wide eyes, Jongdae realizes that the man probably can’t speak loudly after all the groaning. So, he gets with one knee onto the bed and tilts his head, bringing his right ear closer.

“Dae.” Minseok’s whisper is raspy, but Jongdae can hear it now. Relief falls heavy like a stone from his shoulders, but he still feels guilty that he disturbed his sleep.

“I’m sorry!” He swallows heavy. “Oh, Minseok, I’m so sorry to wake you.”

“‘kay, Dae.”

Jongdae almost cries, even while in so much pain Minseok is still trying to comfort him.

“Min-Minseok, I can’t see you being in pain any longer. I have to go.” A strangled whimper can be heard. “I’m sorry! I-I have to go and get something to help you.”

“N-non, p-plea-.”

His whisper gets quieter to the end, Jongdae can’t understand him – but he gets what he wants to say and starts to sob.

“I-I’m sorry, Minseok. I won’t be g-gone for long. I-I promise!”

Minseok whispers something, but he can’t hear him. With tears running down his cheeks, Jongdae leans down to better hear him – only catching the last words.

“-out you, D-Dae.”

“I-I didn’t hear you, Min-Minseok.” He feels bad to ask the man to repeat himself.

“P-please, Dae-“

He’s still too quiet – so Jongdae gets even closer, until he can feel Minseok’s lips against his cheekbone.

“P-please, Dae. Je ne- … the p-pain … not w-without you, D-Dae.”

His words puff hot against Jongdae’s ear, their meaning cutting his heart into pieces.

“But Min-Minseok, I-I have to get you something. Please, l-let me go.”

“Dae-“ his whisper turns into a cough and Jongdae has to distance himself with a shaky exhale.

Wiping his tears, he looks at Minseok – his heart is screaming in empathy and anguish. But his head is determined to relieve the man of his pain.

“I-I’m sorry, but I have to g-go.”

A high whine follows and a second time it turns into a painful cough. It lets a courage surge through Jongdae, letting him lean down once again and press a small kiss to a flushed cheek.

“I’m sorry, Minseok.”

A last longing gaze and new tears stream down his cheeks. With an aching heart, Jongdae leaves the not-a-stranger, not-an-enemy, _Minseok_, in his hut, in his bed – behind.

* * *

Tears run down Jongdae’s cheeks as if it rains, while he hurries his way to the village. It pains him to leave Minseok behind, but he has to if he wants to get something to help against the pain.

Each minute that goes by lets Jongdae hurry faster over the muddy path – it already led into him stumbling three times, luckily only actually falling once. He felt awful, lying on the ground and crying – thinking about how Minseok lies in his bed, in much more pain. It gave him enough strength to fight against the dizziness and walk further, ignoring his swaying steps.

Trying to distract his thoughts, he thinks about what he’ll say to the doctor. If he even gets him to listen.

Unfortunately, the doctor belongs to the majority of villagers who prefer to stay away from Jongdae. Keeping their distance, staring. Ignoring him when he tries to talk to them, most turn away and leave. It hurts, but it could be worse – that’s what Jongdae tells himself at least.

For instance, the villagers could chase him away. They could easily hurt him since he doesn’t really know how to uphold himself against build blacksmiths or angry mothers. Jongdae thinks himself lucky that so far only a few younger boys found a liking to actually harming him physically.

Trying to stay positive, he wipes his drying tears and thinks about the only villagers being kind to him since his incident – the baker’s family. The red-cheeked master baker has always been nice to him, even allowing him to use an old oven to fire his mended pottery once a month.

With a smile, Jongdae thinks about days long gone and future days to come while staring at muddy earth moving under his hurried steps. Oh, how nice it would be to bring Minseok with him to the village, after he recovered of course. His smile turns into a grin while he thinks about the envious looks of the girls when they see him together with the handsome man. They won’t be spurting evil words about him anymore – because he’s not alone any longer.

When he passes the first houses, Jongdae hears a greeting. First, he thinks it isn’t directed at him, but a louder call of his name lets him turn around.

“Jongdae! Wow, I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?”

With a surprised expression, Jongdae is met with a young man – maybe three or four years younger than himself. He knows he’s the son of a family of fishers his family knows – Jongdae used to track along when his father went fishing with them. But sadly, he can’t remember the boy’s name.

“Ehm, h-hello.” He swallows, unused to someone asking about his health so casually. “I’m f-fine. How ar-“

“Oh, Jongdae. No need to be so formal and stiff~” The young man throws an arm around Jongdae’s right shoulder and starts to walk. Jongdae gets tense immediately and tries not to stumble, while he gets directed to the centre of the village involuntarily. He was successful on his way here to not get distracted that much – this boy wasting his time now isn’t what he needs at all.

The young man chattered about how his father took him to the sea and how he makes him proud with catching many, many fish. It’s clear that he’s no person of high intellect – Jongdae has to suppress a sarcastic comment when he retells a story about how he was surprised that fish can bite and that it _hurts_.

Jongdae wants to interrupt him, to go his own way and not waste time any longer. But the young man has a strong grip on his shoulder while he talks without an end. With each word that leaves his lips, Jongdae starts to suspect that they are meant to hurt him - he talks about all the things Jongdae couldn’t.

Jongdae frowns. Maybe his family put the young man on watch to make his life miserable and then report back to them? He admits to himself that it’s a bit far stretched, but his mind gets more anxious every minute wasting time with this man.

After a deep breath to collect enough courage, Jongdae twists around to shrug off the arm around his shoulder and now green eyes stare at him. “Hey, what-“

“I’m sorry, but I-I am here for a reason and I won’t let you waste my time any l-longer.”

“Waste your time? You should be happy someone is actually talking to you. Hey, Jongdae!”

But Jongdae is already hurrying down the road - towards the doctors’ house where he knocks before he enters, hoping the young man doesn’t follow.

* * *

When Jongdae leaves the house again, he’s fuming. Cheeks reddened and eyebrows furrowed in anger, he makes his way through the village – back home. To Minseok. _Finally_.

He knew the doctor won’t be pleased to see him, to listen to him. But he was a man sworn to help people – why was he so reluctant to give Jongdae his attention? It makes him furious that he only got medicine when he told that it’s not for him. Jongdae never had to lie so much like he did to answer the questions following his words.

His bad feeling gets pushed aside by the realization that he got it. He got medicine for Minseok. Minseok won’t be in pain anymore.

A big smile finds its way onto his lips.

Steps now hurried due to enthusiasm instead of anger, Jongdae stomps his way to his hut. The earth is still muddy, but he is careful enough to not stumble like earlier.

Unfortunately, his concentration leads into him thinking, thinking _too deep_.

His mind brings back the moment Minseok told him about his memory, it brings back feelings of jealousy, of anger and hurt. Jongdae still feels foolish that he had these emotions in this situation.

But when Minseok told him about another man in his bunk, the green monster reared its head and Jongdae felt so, so bad. For being jealous of a person Minseok seems to cherish. For being jealous when Minseok needed his support.

He used to be jealous of people living their life freely, but jealousy about _being close to someone_ is new to him.

With a sudden thought, Jongdae realizes how much Minseok changed him during their short time together. How he made him open up to him, to become close to another person. How he turned from a stranger, an _enemy_, in his hut, in his _bed_ – into Minseok. _His Minseok?_

Despite his injured condition, Minseok achieved to make him feel safe. He doesn’t reduce Jongdae to his arm or limitations. Even with their tense conversations, he was honest and spoke positive things about Jongdae. Positive _true_ things, that made him let down his defence walls. To trust him. To sing again. With a blush, Jongdae adds – _to let him touch his marks_.

And his blush darkens, when he recalls how brave he got – initiating contact. Holding hands, even kissing his cheek. Jongdae isn’t really sure if it was really him doing that. It’s not like he isn’t glad about it – it’s just that he was never the bravest person. But Minseok makes him _want_ to cross his comfort zone.

He makes him want to spend time together, to look at each other with knowing smiles and fingers drawing into the other’s palm. Jongdae wants to have Minseok in his future. He doesn’t want him to go back to France, to his family, to the girl he wrote letters with and to the other man from the ship. Jongdae knows it’s selfish – but he hopes that Minseok wants the same.

Because Minseok sneaked his way into Jongdae’s heart, benefitting from his empathic nature and giving his own admiration in return. Turning a puzzle piece of Jongdae’s person into a _Minseok_-one, engraving himself into his mind.

Said mind stirs like it wants to remind him of something. But Jongdae is sure that he only had to give Minseok the medicine, he gave his best to remember that. He frowns and looks down.

Jongdae’s eyes widen, terror floods his veins – he did it again. His feet aren’t moving, he probably stopped walking sometime during his inner monologue. Why _now_?

Incredible anger at himself burns through his veins and his heart screams in pain, when he thinks about how long he made Minseok wait. With watery eyes and angry red cheeks, Jongdae stumbles forward - hurrying to his hut.

* * *

Jongdae arrives with strained breathing, a heavy cough shakes his grip at the door handle for a moment. When he opens it, the air meeting him feels weird. There’s a strange energy in the room and his eyes widen when he spots a still form on his bed. Then Jongdae realizes it.

There are no groans. No whimpers. Nothing.

Panic surges through him, urging him to hurry to Minseok’s side. Horrible thoughts rush into his mind, thoughts he denies being true. But the second he can see the man’s face he stops, frozen in horror.

Minseok’s eyes are closed, mouth opened slightly – he appears to be asleep. But a choked sound leaves Jongdae’s lips, when he notices how the red in Minseok’s cheeks is missing and how his chest isn’t moving. Tears spring into his eyes, Jongdae’s heart skips a beat and his feet seem to move on their own now.

With hesitant steps Jongdae comes closer, eyes never leaving the man in his bed and his throat feels tight.

“Min-Minseok?”

But there is no answer and the reality starts to win against the denial. Yet, Jongdae can’t help himself to try to prove that it’s not true. That Minseok isn’t …

His hand finds the man’s cheek, caressing clammy cold skin with shaking fingers.

“N-no, No, Min-“ Jongdae’s voice cracks. “P-please no!”

His hand pushes the shirt higher, to feel the forehead underneath – but there isn’t any warmth left.

“Min-Minseok, wake up, p-please!” His voice is desperate. “P-please, I-I beg you-“ 

With his shoulder shaking from quiet cries, he withdraws his hand and lowers his head onto Minseok’s chest - trying to listen for a heartbeat.

He’s met with silence.

A sob falls from Jongdae’s lips and he pushes his face into the shirt beneath. His hand fists the fabric and loud cries shake his body.

“N-no, Min-Min-“

He can’t stop crying, tears flow down his cheeks and onto the shirt, drenching it in his agony. His breathing gets strained and for a few moments Jongdae feels like he can’t breathe.

Minseok is gone.

Gone.

And Jongdae wasn’t there.

His heart skips a beat at the thought, but hammers against his ribs just seconds later. A terrifying feeling fills his veins, turning the sobs into breathless wheezes.

He wasn’t there, Minseok was alone when he …

Jongdae’s head gets dizzy at the sheer amount of _guilt_ that overcomes him.

“I-I’m so-sorry, Min-Minseok!” He sounds wretched. “I-I’m sorry!”

Shallow breaths feel like they can’t transport any air into his lungs, he’s overwhelmed by guilt and sadness and _anger_. His mind is running wild with emotions, each one overpowering the other and changing the next second. The roller coaster makes him see stars.

“I-I-I’m so-“Jongdae gasps for air. “Min-Minseok, I d-didn’t want-“

His gasping continues for several minutes, his nose still pressed into Minseok’s shirt – with each breathless inhale he smells the heavy cottony-_Minseok_-scent. It doesn’t help to calm his breathing, alternating between sobbing and choking on the little air left in his lungs.

“I-I didn’t want to b-be g-gone for so long!”

Another strangled inhale.

“I-I-I promised … I’m s-sorry! A-and you d-didn’t want me t-to leave …” A breathless sob. “Min-Minseok, I’m so sorry f-for leaving you a-alone!”

His heart is still beating in anger at himself.

“P-please, Min-Minseok, come back! F-forgive me! I-I just wanted t-to help.”

The dizziness isn’t improving and Jongdae moves his head to rub his right cheek against Minseok’s shirt. Words roll down his tongue, a chant of “I’m sorry” slurring together – interrupted here and there from a sob or choked inhale.

His words get quieter with the passing minutes, until they are reduced to only whispers. Jongdae’s breathing is still strained, but the less tears run down his face the more he can take deep breaths again. With more air back in his lungs, the dizziness starts to disappear as well.

It takes the emotions with it – leaving nothing behind. It feels weird, suddenly there are no feelings at all. Only a numbness he can’t describe – Jongdae feels _empty_.

His tears stop and he moves his head, to place his left cheek onto the damp shirt and to look at Minseok’s face.

It appears clammy, with a grey undertone and without the rosy cheeks he looks so _soulless_. Jongdae’s heart squeezes in anguish, leaving a sting behind.

Minseok’s face is calm for once, without any tension. His eyebrows still enhance his feline eyes, even when they are shut and won’t open again. The jaw appears slack, not grinding the teeth together in pain.

He looks serene, painless and like he went while asleep – Jongdae hopes so at least.

A few silent moments follow, where Jongdae doesn’t form any coherent thoughts and just stares at the man’s face. But then, his lips formulate words without his mind’s approval.

“You know? I had to b-beg on my knees to get your medicine.” He gulps. “The doctor didn’t believe me at first, that-that I need it for a-a friend. Because I don’t have f-friends?”

With numb fingers he starts to draw circles onto Minseok’s unmoving chest.

“But I got down t-to my knees and begged. He gave me something, I-I don’t even know how to use it. I thought we’d figure it out t-together …” _But now you’re gone_.

Jongdae sniffs.

“I-I don’t know what to do … I thought you won’t hurt anymore, you’d heal and maybe … maybe even stay with me?”

He averts his eyes to watch how his fingers smooth out crinkles in the shirt instead of drawing circles.

“I-I’m really sorry. P-please believe me, Minseok. I just … I just wanted to relieve you of your pain. But I didn’t want it to be … this w-way.”

His eyes start to sting again, they are probably all red and swollen after all his crying.

“I feel so lost. I-I really thought it will be fine … but I-I guess my optimism isn’t that helpful l-like you thought.”

A pained smile finds its way to his lips. Jongdae lifts his head and gazes once again at Minseok.

Minseok. His not-a-stranger, his not-an-enemy. In his hut. In his bed. In his _heart_.

“I’m sorry, Minseok.”


	8. Epilogue: 30th August 1870

On the next day, a strong wind blows across the land.

A blackberry bush rustles in the wind and a lilac emits its sweet, powdery fragrance. There are some blossoms of it scattered around, somehow creating a path around the hut – out to a wild meadow.

There, Lilac blossoms mix with cornflowers and wild poppies, their colourful petals strewn across the floor. Nearby is a mound out of new soil. On top of it - a branch with lilac blossoms, next to a once broken cup, unique with its blue leaf pattern mixed with beige material. Kept in place by the cup is a black cloth with a red embroidered anchor.

The wind whirls some petals around, blowing them against the hut’s wall. There are seagulls cutting through the sky with their cries – sounding as angry and hungry as always.

But inside the hut, there is silence. No voices can be heard, no humming or singing.

A young man lies in the bed, still and unmoving. The slow rise and fall of his chest aren’t the only signs of life. His eyes are open, but they are puffy and red. The man stares ahead with a blank expression – eyebrows without tension and curled lips slack.

His head rests on a blue uniform jacket, which is clutched by one hand with a tense grip. From time to time the man’s red nose nudges the fabric and he inhales a deep breath. No sound leaves his dry lips, but tears start to flow – following the path of their siblings down sharp cheekbones.

When the eyes have no tears left and their redness seems rather dry, they fall shut. The young man exhales shaky breaths and after some minutes he appears to be asleep.

His body is free from tension, strength leaves soil-dirtied fingers - the grip around the jacket goes soft. The lips have bite marks and are opened a bit, puffing out slow streams of air and the eyes seem to move behind their lids.

A whimper breaks through the silence, followed by a quiet whine of a name.

The man’s breathing turns heavy, with an occasional audible gulp and for a second time, a whined name. There are some leftover tears flowing down from the corner of his eyes – falling onto the already damp uniform underneath.

Another whimper and then it’s quiet again.

When the young man wakes the next time, wheezing and groaning in pain – he buries his face into the uniform and cries. He doesn’t leave the bed. Despite his body not hurting at every little motion anymore, because of the unfamiliar digging movements of the previous day. Even when no more agony flows through his veins, no feet find their way onto the floor.

Maybe he thinks that he doesn’t deserve to do something anymore. His optimism lost to guilt.

Maybe he thinks that it doesn’t matter if he leaves the hut or not. That he doesn’t go out to search the shoreline for broken things to make better again.

Maybe he thinks it doesn’t matter, because the last broken thing he found, that filled him with hope and warmth – he wasn’t able to fix.

Because at the end, all good things shatter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minseok died of internal bleeding due to a slightly ruptured spleen. The hypothermia helped to keep the bleeding to a minimum, but because Jongdae had to transport him with only one arm he worsened the rupture and him warming Minseok allowed the internal bleeding to progress (relatively) fast.
> 
> This is my baby, the first story that I wrote, so - thank you for reading until the end.


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